


Smells Like Teen Spirit

by VolxdoSioda



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Canon? Don't Know Her, Crossover, Fix-It, Gen, Ignis is sent to train Tsuna in place of Reborn, additional tags to be added later, assassin!Ignis, heavily AU, mafia mentoring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 01:10:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16651417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolxdoSioda/pseuds/VolxdoSioda
Summary: In the world of assassins, there are what you call ‘soft targets’ and what you call ‘hard targets’. Sawada Tsunayoshi, newly prioritized tween in Namimori, falls under the first category. At the immediate point, he has little to no value, is easy to bring down, and isn’t worth much to any would-be kidnappers or killers.The Vongola have him marked in the file as a ‘for emergencies only’ heir. It’s terribly ironic, because Timoteo sealed him, thinking he would never be needed. That dragging his Intel Commander’s darling son into the bloody world of the mob was a bit much. So they’d locked his Flames down and brushed him under the rug, and now with three heirs in the grave and a fourth on ice, suddenly he’s the only option they have. Which is why they hired Ignis, and not Reborn for this job.Because Ignis is no fool. You don’t drop bombs on soft targets and expect them to harden overnight. You have to acclimate them, first with ideas, and then with actions, bit by bit. Patience is key. Setbacks need to be expected. But the Vongola will have their heir, when Ignis is done.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Adel and Seito, who, like the filthy traitors they are, dragged me back into a fandom that I'm not even in anymore. I hate you both, you terrible no-good enabler brats.
> 
> To be perfectly clear, this is as about as AU as you can get. I'm not acknowledging canon, or fanon. If you don't like that, feel free to leave and keep silent as you go. Comments asking for more will be deleted, as will comments asking for updates.

Ignis Scientia doesn’t so much ‘walk’ into Tsunayoshi Sawada’s life one morning as he does simply appear there, like he’s been there all along, unseen among the throngs of other people within Namimori’s limits. Like he’s just another simple-minded, hard-working businessman taking a train to and from work every day, drinking with his coworkers and boss, and pitting himself against the grindstone of work, work and more work. 

 

The flier he carefully drops in the Sawada mailbox mimics that impression; there’s nothing bombastic about the lettering or imaging of the flier. It mentions tutoring, but not room and board, because he recognizes that no teenage boy will share a room with a virtual stranger comfortably. Perhaps later, when trust is established and Tsuna lets him have his open back, but not right off the get-go.

 

Nana Sawada calls him back that same day, giving him an easy opening to her son’s life; he’s doing poorly in school (namely in math, she laments, but it could  _ all  _ use work) and any help he could offer her son would be greatly appreciated. Ignis says all the right things in all the right places, and fifteen minutes later he’s hanging up the phone with the knowledge that he’ll be meeting his charge tomorrow, which gives him a full twenty-four hours to get an idea of what he’s dealing with.

 

Timoteo had offered him what files on Sawada Tsunayoshi they had before he left, but he’d declined them. Second-hand information could be wrong, after all, and why spend time and energy feeling the need to slit throats when he could skip the hassle altogether and make his own discoveries of what was, and was not needed for the future Don? 

 

Ignis was tailoring himself to fit Tsunayoshi, after all. It was not a one-size-fits-all type of endeavor, and he would be damned if he fell into that sub-par standard for his heir.

 

Iemitsu was fine with a general overview of how his son was doing, but not Ignis. Ignis needed details, and as much information as he could readily gather. And so after speaking to Nana Sawada on the phone, and taking a quick glance at the time, he gathers one of his black bags and heads to work. 

 

The difference between the two greatest assassins of the era is that while Reborn is content to see and be seen in strange getups, Ignis prefers to blend in, changing himself to reflect the people around him. He does not so much become another face in the crowd as he does a mirror, a reflection of the kind of man society expects to see there, filling the spaces between people. And so despite his clearly foreign appearance, nobody gives him a second glance as he confidently walks the sidewalks like he’s done it every day for years.

 

Namimori Middle is a public education building that has seen better days, despite the amount of funding it must get. Here at least, he’s already done some rudimentary digging, set himself up openings and perches to establish himself. And he’s been around Japan often enough to know how the schools are generally set up, so it takes nothing for him to flash his ID to the guard at the gate, and be let in.

 

He spots Tsunayoshi mere moments after doing so, as he’s heading down one hallway to the teacher’s lounge. The boy comes screeching from around a corner, slamming into a wall hard enough to bruise, before bouncing off of it and tearing into a nearby classroom, squeaking something about  _ being late  _ all the while. In the few moments he has to see him, Ignis categorizes the scruffiness and untidy nature of his uniform and person, the bruises on his wrists and arms, and the slowly healing split lip. 

 

He keeps walking. Further down another hallway, snickering. “Didja see the way Dame-Tsuna took off? Oh man, that was  _ great.” _

 

“He’ll flunk out before the year is up, guaranteed.”

 

“Nah, end of the  _ month.” _

 

“End of the week, even!” Laughter, as cruel as children can ever be. Ignis has seen and heard it all before, has dealt with it. An obstacle, but one he has conquered before and will conquer again.

 

He keeps walking, and is rewarded again for his silence. Behind the door to the lounge, muted mutterings. Not muted enough for Ignis’ sharp ears, but sufficient for civilians. “Sawada Tsunayoshi’s late again. I caught him at the gate just as I was locking up.”

 

“That boy. Sometimes I wonder if his mother’s got her head on straight. If that were my child, I’d be ashamed to show my face in public.”

 

“If that were my child, he’d already be enrolled in the military. Or shipped off to some place that caters to failures.”

 

“I feel pity for him, you know. Imagine growing up, watching the world around you and thinking you’ll be fine if you don’t bother with anything, give up ever trying, and devote your life to manga and video games. And that absentee father of his certainly doesn’t help. Maybe if he had a man in his life, Sawada-kun would be a little more inclined to try!”

 

_ Indeed,  _ Ignis thinks with amusement as he opens the door. All eyes are on him. 

 

“Ah, Scientia-san?” The man Ignis knows to be the science teacher rises from his desk, smiling widely. 

 

Ignis bows. “Yes. And you must be Dohachiro-san. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I apologize for my lateness - I’m afraid I’m still unused to the trains, and had to double back at one point.”

 

“No trouble, no trouble!” Nezu waves it away, clearly willing to make an exception. And why shouldn’t he? Ignis’ credentials are  _ flawless,  _ certainly finer than most here have seen in their years of working in public education. “We were just preparing for our day. Given you’re covering Mrs. Ritsuko while she’s on vacation, I’ll give you a copy of her notes and her usual itinerary for the day. Of course, if you have any ideas to add, feel free to do so. Whatever you can do to make the troublemakers simmer down and pay attention.”

 

“Ah, that shouldn’t be an issue,” Ignis says, nodding as he accepts the notes. Already he can tell by the first few lines they will be useless to him. “I’ve done enough teaching in my time to know how to handle the more defiant children. I assure you, they will remain at their best beneath my capable hand.”

 

“Good, good! I look forward to hearing about it when we switch later today. Ah, but before you go, I should warn you, there’s a certain… problem child in that unit.”

 

“Personality problems?” he pretends to misunderstand.

 

“If only. No, I’m afraid he’s a hopeless case. Doesn’t have a stern enough hand at home, so he doesn’t bother trying when he gets here. Just wastes everyone’s time and energy, and drags himself in late. His grades are a mockery to our school.”

 

Ignis hums, accepting the folder Nezu gives him, scanning it quickly. Bad grades, bad socialization skills, bullying issues, and authority figures who refuse to step in and give aid. It’s not quite the worst cocktail for human upbringing Ignis has ever seen, but it’s certainly down there in the bottom fifty. “I find,” he says at last, closing the folder and handing it back over. “That there are no hopeless cases. Only hopeless people. Sawada Tsunayoshi will change his tune, that much I can promise.”

 

“You have my sympathies for thinking so kindly, but you’ll see I was right when you meet him. Boy doesn’t have a brain between his ears. In any case, good luck with your classes, Scientia-san.”

 

“Thank you.” 

 

And now for a little hands-on experience, and with any luck, more information on the beast he’ll be wrangling.

  
  


**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

  
  


Tsuna hasn’t ever had mornings quite as bad as today, but it’s been a close call. He hit the ‘snooze’ button on his alarm once too many times, and then his mom didn’t come to wake him before going shopping, and when he finally  _ had  _ woken up and started trying to book it to school as fast as he could in his haste  _ not  _ to be late for once, he’d forgotten to pack up his bag the night before so he’d been forced to do  _ that,  _ and he still hadn’t gotten the last test signed, which mean for sure getting called out in class.

 

His toast had burnt, and he’d had to deal with the taste of charcoal on the back of his throat all the way to school, where he’d nearly been locked out, right before first Hibari-senpai and then his usual group of bullies had slowed him down with beatings. By the time he made it to class he was well and truly late, for all that the teacher had yet to show up, which was perhaps the only blessing he had going.

 

Now he sits slumped over his desk, feeling utterly miserable and just wanting to crawl back into bed and not get up.  _ Why do I even bother,  _ he wonders, willing back the tears of frustration that once again want to crawl out of him.  _ Seriously, I could vanish off the face of the earth and nobody would notice. What’s the point of even coming to school anymore? Would mom even care if I just left and didn’t come back home one day?  _

 

It’s certainly a thought that’s crossed his mind more than once - just packing a bag and running away. Hell, not even really packing a bag, some days. Just picking a direction and walking until he drops dead. The only thing really stopping him is the thought that starving to death probably hurts, and he’s too much of a wuss to actually go further than Namimori before anxiety overwhelms him and he’d end up turning back. 

 

So yeah. For all his grand plans of death and vanishing, he doesn’t actually have the willpower to go through with any of it. Which leaves him here, stuck in this miserable spot in his life with no hope for the future - not unless they’re handing out miracles, and knowing his luck they’d probably skip him because he doesn’t qualify, or they’d forget his, or his would be something like an  _ oni  _ come to eat him for misbehaving.

 

He sighs into his desk.  _ Just let me die, already. _

 

The door to the room opens before he can continue on, and the student president barks out, “Stand!”

 

It’s habit and an unwillingness to cause more trouble for himself that has him shuffling to his feet. He doesn’t raise his head however, not until a male voice rings out. “Sawada Tsunayoshi, raise your head.”

 

He  _ flinches,  _ and snaps to attention, eyes wide. There’s snickering around him, but that quiets too as the green-eyed man standing in pinstripe at the front of the room orders, “The rest of you, quiet. You think it’s funny to laugh at those more tired than you?”

 

“Kinda,” someone in the back mutters. The teacher doesn’t even turn his head.

 

“Utemaro Juba, go to the corner and stay there until I say otherwise.”

 

“Wha--!”

 

The teacher’s gaze is piercing, and terribly cold. Tsuna finds himself shivering beneath the weight of it. “As of now, cruelty within these walls will not be tolerated. I don’t care whatever your issue with each other is outside, but past that door you are to set those feelings aside. You are here to  _ learn,  _ not to hassle each other for your failures. Utemaro, why aren’t you in the corner yet?”

 

The boy gapes, and then apparently realizes the teacher isn’t joking. He shuffles, embarrassed, over to the corner and stands facing the wall.

 

“Turn around,” the man says. “I’m not going to compromise your education to teach you a lesson. You can stand and learn at the same time, can’t you?”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

“Then do so. The rest of you, sit. Sawada, keep your head  _ up _ .”

 

Once again, Tsuna snaps to attention, but this time it’s because the teacher is in front of him -  _ how did he move so fast, he was at the head of the room a second ago! -  _ and puts fingers beneath his chin, moving his head up. “In here,” the man says quietly, “You are to leave your feelings of inadequacy behind. I will teach you until you understand.”

 

“I won’t,” Tsuna says glumly. “I never do.”

 

The man smiles, and combined with the glittering green eyes and the perfect appearance, it sends a peculiar shiver down Tsuna’s spine. “We shall see.”

 

He moves back to the head of the room. “I am Ignis Scientia, and from this point on I am your teacher. Whatever issues you have with each other out in the world are to be put aside in here; the only quarrels I want to hear or see are between you and your work. If you find yourself unable to hold back harassing your fellows, then by all means, the door is there.” He gestures to the exit.

 

“Can he do that?” Someone asks. Tsuna doesn’t see who.

 

“I can, and I will. If nothing else comes of my time here, I expect to see  _ basic human decency  _ by the time I leave.” Ignis’ smile is sharp, and his gaze lingers a little too long on some students. It’s a silent call to attention if ever Tsuna saw it. For a moment, he’s hopeful. Maybe at least inside the classroom he can get some relief from the stress. Maybe he can start to do better. Maybe--

 

And then he actually  _ thinks  _ about it, thinks about the people who shun him on a regular basis, noticing him only long enough to ridicule or mock him, and the fragile hope breaks apart and scatters in his chest like petals on the wind. Because yeah, while some of the problem has always been he isn’t good at  _ anything  _ \- sports, math, languages - most of the problem is  _ him.  _ Just him. He’s Dame-Tsuna, born and raised, and that’s all he’ll ever be. Even if the students decide not to treat him like trash inside the classroom, that doesn’t change anything.

 

And Scientia-san isn’t a permanent fixture. Just a cover until their usual Science teacher comes back. He feels his shoulders slump, and leans forward, ready to drop his head onto his desk and fall asleep like usual. 

 

“Sawada, head  _ up _ .”

 

A third time,  _ up.  _ This time, Scientia-san doesn’t even have to finish the whole sentence. There’s a kind of patient amusement behind his gaze when Tsuna looks over, like he’s waiting for Tsuna to grasp that he’s not going to stop. Tsuna’s already figured  _ that  _ out. 

 

Their teacher is weird, but he’s kind, and he treats them like they’re  _ people.  _ He calls Utemano back to his seat after a few more moments, and they make it through the period in a kind of strange stalemate - nobody wants to test just how far they can push Scientia-san, no matter how foreign he is. There’s just something about the man and how he holds himself that dissuades that kind of thinking.

 

Tsuna gets through the period without issues, even if he’s already dropped his head back onto his desk by the time the bell rings for the next period. He closes his eyes, and waves goodbye to the strange peace he’s found. The heckling doesn’t immediately resume, which is nice, not until the teacher starts passing back tests and clicks his tongue.

 

“Sub-par as usual, Sawada. What are we going to do with you?”

 

And Tsuna’s long stopped caring about the walk of shame up to the front or smiling and trying to promise to do better. He just looks his teacher in the eye, takes his test, goes back to his desk where he shoves it in his bag, and then puts his head down and tries to pretend his eyes aren’t burning.

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

  
  


Ignis is usually a cautious man, especially when starting over with new trainees; but as soon as he enters the classroom, he can’t for the life of him stop himself ordering Tsunayoshi Sawada to raise his head anymore than he can stop himself from ordering those booger-flicking menaces to stop harassing their fellow. It isn’t favoritism, not when he applies it to the whole room the way he does, but it’s a reprieve. Tsunayoshi Sawada is badly broken, having been mishandled and mistreated all his life. And whether intentional or not, Ignis has never been able to walk away from broken people - it’s why his targets tend to be so high-profile. He targets those who have harmed others, and silences them for good.

 

He manages to get Tsunayoshi to keep his head up for the period, but he’s already aware that as soon as he leaves, his laws go with him, and the teacher that comes after him will simply undo all that was done today. It’s aggravating, to get two steps forward only to slide back three because others are simply content to follow the status quo everyone else is making. Still, it’s a start, and now that he has an easy channel of access, he can start preparing for what needs to happen. And perhaps, if luck affords him the opportunity, start training Tsunayoshi out of his mindset of self-hatred.

 

Self-confidence is a particular nasty beast to wrangle, simply because of all the ways it can go wrong. Too much, and a person becomes arrogant. Not enough, and they question their worth. A nice, even balance must be supplied, and kept at a good level for building strong foundations. Tsunayoshi will need more than most, simply because of his future, but Ignis will supply him with all he needs, praise and reality checks alike.

 

“Well?” Nezu asks, waiting for him as he enters the room. “Did I tell you so or what?”

 

“Or what,” Ignis says, ignoring his fellows’ sputtering. “Treating a child like dirt tends to result in poor academic performance. I’m beginning to see  _ why  _ you were all so content to give up on him. Well, you needn’t worry about it much after today. I’ll provide him with what he needs.”

 

“Hey, don’t you think that’s a bit rude? We teachers do our best--”

 

Ignis turns his head and fixes Nezu with a look so icy cold the man’s mouth clicks as it shuts. “Do me the courtesy of not  _ lying  _ to my face, Dohachiro-san. I’ve worked in over fifty schools from various states and locations across the world. Trust me when I say I know what casual abuse looks like - and I have very few qualms about putting that kind of victim-blaming where it belongs. An absent mother alone would not cause him to slide backwards so much.”

 

Nezu’s face turns a particular shade of puce, but Ignis simply ignores it, and continues grading papers. If he uses his sleight of hand tricks to tuck Tsuna’s away into the cuff of his shirt, well, nobody needs to know that.

 

“The principal won’t appreciate hearing such things out of your mouth, Scientia. You’re a new hire, so you’re already on thin ice. You should listen to your betters in this situ--”

 

Ignis’ glasses glint in the low light. “My betters in this situation’? Perhaps you’ve forgotten which one of us holds the higher education here. More to the point, I don’t much care if I get fired or not - I’m here for my own personal reasons. But in the meantime, I expect to see the adults act like  _ adults,  _ the children like children, and I expect the lines not to  cross and for the children to be soulless little  _ husks  _ that everyone else has the pleasure of kicking about like a soccer ball.”

 

“His mother--”

 

“Is a single woman doing her best with what she has been afforded. It’s hardly her fault her husband is overseas most days, working himself to the bone to provide for his family. Truly, stop trying to pin the blame on everyone  _ but  _ the people around him, Dohachiro-san. I’m tired of hearing it.”

 

Nezu huffs. “Whatever. Your time here is short-lived anyway. Just don’t drag the rest of the students down with your ridiculous crusade to get Sawada up to something resembling decent grades. They don’t deserve to have their grades plummet because you can’t admit the boy’s a lost cause.”

 

Ignis’ eyes narrow beneath his glasses, the only sign of displeasure he gives. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he states, and folds his papers into the briefcase he brought with him with a quiet  _ snap. _

 

He does see Tsunayoshi one final time that day, as everyone is packing up to go home. They’re standing across from each other at the train station, each waiting. Where Tsunayoshi means to go, Ignis can’t say. But there are new bruises on the boy’s arms that weren’t there this morning, and a drying streak of blood beneath his nose that look like it’s been run over by his hands a few times.

 

Ignis boards his train and loses sight of the boy after, but the image stays locked in his mind all the way home.

 

“Hopeless case indeed,” he murmurs as he prepares for his meeting with the boy the following day. “By the time I’m done with you, they’ll regret ever calling you that.”

  
  


**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

  
  


Bright and early the next morning, materials in hand, Ignis heads to the Sawada residence. The woman he knows to be Tsunayoshi’s mother answers the door with a cheerful smile, ushering him in and thanking him profusely for coming to help her son. He bows back and thanks her for inviting him to her humble home, and that seems to set her off on a new round of pleased ‘thank you’s that leave Ignis feeling somewhat amused. She offers him food and drink, and he does politely declines both, not wanting to overstep himself so soon.

 

And then comes the moment of truth.

 

“Tsuna! Your new tutor is here!”

 

Silence from upstairs. Ignis can’t even hear an errant twitch. And given it’s the weekend, that either means the boy has snuck out, or he’s still asleep. Probably the latter, given what he knows of Tsunayoshi.

 

Nana clucks her tongue. “One moment, please. Tsuna!” She goes upstairs to retrieve her son, leaving Ignis standing there, waiting patiently for her return. It doesn’t take long; he hears the  _ thump  _ of a body falling out of bed, an undignified squawk, and Nana’s muffled voice saying  _ up, out of bed Tsunayoshi, your tutor is here to help you! _

 

_ But it’s the weekend! And it’s 7 in the morning, Mom! _

 

_ I don’t care! Up, up! Get dressed, and then come downstairs. And mind your manners! _

 

Ignis has to turn his head and quietly chuckle at that. Precocious teenager, meet stubborn mother.

 

“He’ll be right down,” Nana says firmly as she returns, smile back in place. “Scientia-san, please call me Nana while you’re here.”

 

“Then please call me Ignis. Before we get started, is there anything you would wish me to teach your son outside of the studies I promised?”

 

“Anything outside of…” She pauses, and he can practically see her thinking. “Hmm, well honestly, I’d like it if he could find some friends. Get up to greet the day instead of hiding beneath his covers. Actually take an interest in something that isn’t a video game or manga.” 

 

Her smile falters, and here now is a mother’s pain, laid out for Ignis to see. “I worry about him. I know what people around me must think - that I’m not raising him right. But I’ve tried everything, and nothing has come of it. At first I thought the grades were the only issue, but lately he’s been coming home with blood on his clothes, and bruises in strange places. I don’t want my son to fall by the wayside and be forgotten, Ignis-san. I know you can’t force friendship, but… even if he made just one friend, I think his life would be richer for it. You know?”

 

Ignis nods. Socialization is an important part of growing up. The choice to peel off from the herd and stand by one’s self is all well and fine, but only when it’s a  _ choice,  _ and not something pushed on people by others. If Tsuna had chosen to stay by himself, it would likely be a different story. But it hasn’t been a choice in a fairly long time, from what Ignis has been made to understand.

 

_ Then again, the standing nail gets hammered down,  _ Ignis thinks.  _ And Iemitsu and Timoteo certainly did their best job of ensuring Tsunayoshi would not be a threat to the line. A hindsight I’m sure they’re coming to regret about now.  _

 

“True. I can’t force friendship. But I have quite a social net myself. A few calls, and I won’t see if perhaps some of my associates’ children won’t be interested to meet him. If nothing else, he’ll have expanded his horizon.”

 

Nana smiles. “Thank you, Ignis-san. I won’t blame you if it doesn’t work out - just trying is enough.”

 

There’s footsteps on the floor above now, coming towards the stairs. Tsunayoshi is heading down at last.

 

“Happy to be of help,” Ignis says, and turns his attention to the stairs just as Tsunayoshi rounds the corner. His expression goes from mulish and annoyed to shocked in the flat span of a second.

 

“You!” he says, his voice cracking. “What are you doing here?”

 

Ignis bows. “Sawada-kun. Your mother called me asking after my tutoring services. It’s good to see you again. Are you well?”

 

“Ignis-san is here to help you get your grades up,” Nana says firmly. When Tsuna looks over at her in mute betrayal, she firmly says, “And you  _ will  _ cooperate with him, Tsunayoshi. Your grades are the worst they’ve ever been, and it’s not helping you. Don’t you want to have a  _ future?” _

 

“Of course I do, but you know it’s not gonna help any,” Tsuna says, and there’s an edge of desperation to his voice. Of self-hatred that has Ignis wanting his knives. “No matter how many tutors we’ve hired over the years, it never sticks. I’m a lost cause, Mom, just accept it and move on.”

 

Ignis speaks before Nana can. “With all due respect, Sawada-kun, there are no such things as ‘lost causes’ - only causes which have not found the correct solution to them, yet. I’ve taught well over a hundred such ‘lost causes’ in my years, and it’s amazing how utterly  _ found  _ people can be when you apply patience and understanding.”

 

Tsuna scoffs. “Yeah well, not me. I’m Dame Tsuna, haven’t you heard? Good for nothing, good  _ at  _ nothing… I’m just a waste of space.”

 

_ Now  _ Ignis allows his temper to react to that a little. “Sawada-kun, it isn’t polite to lie to guests.”

 

Nana beams at him. “I think I’ll let you two get settled. How late will you stay, Ignis-san?”

 

“A few hours today, to get an idea of where your son is. Tomorrow, perhaps longer, depending on your wishes and how he feels.”

 

“Are you certain you don’t want a room? We have a guest bedroom--”

 

“Mom!” Tsuna yells. “Seriously? We don’t even know this guy! He could be a… a… predator of some kind!”

 

_ Hmm, perhaps not entirely without some form of awareness of the world around him. Very good, Tsunayoshi. One point for you.  _

 

“Tsuna!” Nana exclaims. “That was rude. I’m sorry, Ignis-san, my son--”

 

“Has a very good point. You don’t know me yet, Nana-san, though that will likely change with time. For now, I will decline the bedroom. I’m not far from here anyhow. Sawada-kun, would you prefer to study here, or in your room?”

 

Tsuna glowers at him, distrusting. “Does it really matter? Whatever gets you out of here faster.”

 

Ignis chooses not to respond to that. “Downstairs, then. Grab whatever you require to make yourself comfortable.”

 

“What about my homework?”

 

“What about it?” Ignis raises an eyebrow. “We’re not going over homework, Sawada-kun. I’m teaching you from the very beginning. We won’t reach that point for a fairly long time. But by the time we do, you should understand it and be able to do it without difficulty.”

 

Tsunayoshi blinks at him like he’s just announced himself as mayor. “What part of  _ Dame-Tsuna _ did you not get?”

 

“What part of  _ no lost causes  _ did  _ you  _ not grasp?”

 

“Oh my god,” Tsuna mutters, stomping back up towards his bedroom. “Whatever!”

 

Nana shakes her head, listening to her son yell at nothing in particular above them. “I’m sorry about him, Ignis-san.”

 

“Don’t be. I apologize for being as merciless as I am about his self-confidence. But I have never allowed my students to speak ill of themselves or their own abilities - and Tsunayoshi-kun will be no exception.”

 

“Do what you need to,” Nana says, and it might as well be an official go-ahead. “I trust you have my son’s best interests at heart, Ignis-san.”

 

Ignis wants to laugh at that. Almost. But it’s not entirely a lie - because he  _ does  _ want to see Tsunayoshi flourish. Just… in a different way than most would assume. Still, baby steps.

 

He waits until Tsuna comes downstairs again and plops himself down at the table with a scowl before kneeling himself, tucking his legs beneath him and offering his charge a pad of paper and pen. 

 

“We’ll begin at double-digit multiplication.”


	2. Chapter 2

Ignis returns home late that night. The sun is touching the western horizon by the time he leaves, the sky a canvas of gorgeous red-orange. On the far south-western side, black storm clouds are beginning to roll in. There will be a storm within the next few days - a blessing to the local fishing groups and gardeners. 

 

“Thank you again, Ignis-san,” Nana calls to him softly as he leaves, Tsunayoshi having trudged upstairs, five or six pages of notes clutched between ink-stained hands like they were housing the secrets of the universe. “I haven’t… I never thought--”

 

“I told you,” Ignis replies, just as softly, as he bows again and turns. “There is no such thing as a lost cause. Only children who have not yet found their methods of learning.”

 

He maintains the facade of a calm tutor as he returns home. Diligently sets his notes for the day aside, puts his briefcase between the wall and his dresser, takes his shoes off and tucks them by the bed for in the morning. He lays his new outfit out that he will wear on the morrow, and sets his alarm so that he will wake up two hours prior to needing to be at Namimori Middle again. 

 

And then he goes downstairs to the sound-proofed room he set aside for just such an occasion, enters the code for the rack of knives he keeps behind a false safe, pulls on his gloves, blindfolds himself and starts throwing.

 

He’d  _ known  _ coming into this that Tsunayoshi Sawada was not the picture he portrayed. He’d known the boy was smart - as smart as any child had the potential to be. He’d known from years of teaching that Japanese students were usually taught using one method, that teachers did not take the time to individually teach different students different ways. 

 

But it still roused something in his breast, to watch and see that moment when Tsunayoshi looked at the numbers on the page, the figures Ignis had drawn to help him visualize, the little reminders in the margins, and everything had just  _ clicked.  _ It’s a moment he will never forget - Tsuna hadn’t gotten up and started cheering, contrary to popular media movies. He’d sat there, and very quietly said the answer like he was whispering a secret, and when Ignis had nodded and pointed out the next problem, and he’d said that one too, and then the next and the next and the  _ next-- _

 

He’d looked  _ heartbroken.  _ On the verge of tears. Betrayed, like he didn’t understand how such a thing could happen. How, after years of being told he was  _ worthless,  _ Ignis could waltz into his life and in a single evening prove that he  _ was  _ intelligent. That he  _ was  _ worth something. When Ignis had offered the notes out to him after the session, he’d thought for a moment Tsunayoshi really  _ would  _ break down into tears. 

 

He hadn’t, but he’d clutched those notes to his chest like a small child with a teddy bear, and now here Ignis is, throwing knives to give himself an outlet to the violence that wants to rise. Ignis is not and will never be a father, and while he might not be a  _ moral  _ man by any stretch of the imagination, he likes to think that he is a  _ good  _ man when he is allowed to be. He treats people with kindness and dignity and doesn’t trample over them because of circumstances he can’t control. He isn’t perfect, but he’s good at what he does.

 

This is why shows of casual cruelty, of lackluster dedication to do anything other than follow the crowds  _ infuriate  _ him. Why Nezu’s little sneers and the soft mutterings of children have driven him to line the classroom with laws and order and not allow interference. Because people  _ can  _ be good to one another - all it takes is the willpower to do so. They  _ choose  _ not to, perhaps out of selfishness or amusement or what have you. 

 

And while he may not favor Tsunayoshi further than necessary in the classroom, he will be  _ damned  _ if he stands by and does nothing while people destroy a child that was never given a chance. His hands may yet become bloodstained, his morals driven down to match that of his mentor’s, but Ignis will not allow Tsuna’s heart to be destroyed. His kindness will remain, his empathy towards others will endure. Vongola will have their heir, but he will be a man unparalleled and unbroken by the darkness around him.

 

He throws the final dagger with enough force to embed it to the hilt, and undoes the ties on his blindfold. He breathes in, and then out, and lets the remainder of his temper fade like it was never there at all. Lingering over the faults of others will do him no good, and he’s spent too many years as a professional perfecting his art now to falter. Rather than lament about the actions of others that he can’t fix, he needs to focus on fixing the parts of his charge left crumbled and withered by the actions of those around him. 

 

A rekindling of a spark, the rebuilding of self-confidence, and above all else, the creation of stability in the young man’s life. All three things he will desperately need in the coming days, because it won’t get any easier going forward. Ignis came here with the mission of breaking him in - and break him in he shall, but only when he’s  _ ready.  _ Before that, there must come the prep work.

 

In some ways, shaping Tsunayoshi is much like doing the prep work on a particularly delicate dish. And that, at the very least, Ignis has far too much practice with.

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

 

In the morning, the world feels fragile, like glass. 

 

Maybe it’s the hour he’s awake. Usually his alarm chimes and chimes and chimes and he just shuts it right back off and goes back to bed, because he was awake playing video games until long after his mom had already gone to bed. Long after he should have been asleep.

 

Or maybe it’s the series of papers laying innocently on his desk next to his packed bag - his homework done as best he was able. He expects to get red marks on them again, but the hour until the teacher calls him up to hand him a paper dripping with red seems so far away. Like it’s years off, instead of minutes. But those papers on his desk remained, elegant handwriting a mockery of everything Tsuna thought he knew, up until last night. 

 

He’d thought the teacher strange, at first. The name, the appearance, the way the man held himself. Little had he thought it a prelude to the kind of power the man held - a casual confidence that didn’t shake, or even tremble, in the face of Tsuna’s lack of understanding about numbers. Numbers that were supposed to click together on command, were supposed to make sense.

 

Numbers that now  _ did  _ make sense.

 

And that’s probably why he’s awake as early as he is, why the first blare of the alarm has him sitting upright, slamming it off, putting his feet out of bed and throwing the covers back. All so he can go back to those papers and make sure it wasn’t just a fever dream.

 

But no. He still remembers the method, painted so bright in his mind’s eye, as if by an artist’s hand. He knows what he has to do to get the answer for the equation at the bottom. He doesn’t remember what the answer is, but he knows the method to find out. He does it on a spare scrap of paper, just to prove it, and the answer comes out clean. When he double checks it against a calculator, the answer matches.

 

All these years of being told he’s  _ useless,  _ that he’s stupid, that he  _ won’t amount to anything…  _ and in one single night, the man subbing for his usual Science teacher comes in and upends the whole thing. Tosses everything Tsuna has been told out the window, wiped the slate clean, and started fresh. The half-muddled method explained to him by Nezu is gone, replaced with Ignis’ clean precision. 

 

If he thinks on it too long, he starts to shake. With what, Tsuna doesn’t know. Last night he wanted to cry. Today, it feels like he should almost be screaming in fury instead. 

 

Fury over what, again he doesn’t know. But there’s a sharpness in his chest that speaks of hurt, a wound he didn’t realize was there until Ignis showed him. Now it’s bleeding free, and Tsuna doesn’t know how to stop it. How to fix what has been torn open. It makes him scared for today - what else will Ignis show him? What else can he make Tsuna understand?

 

Suddenly the world is open in front of him, and Tsuna doesn’t know what to do about it. Doesn’t know how to deal with the fact that he can actually  _ have  _ a future now, instead of awaiting the day his mother dies and he gets left without a roof over his head or a way to keep himself safe. It’s nauseating, this knowledge. Even more so than when the expectations of others were piled onto his shoulders like rocks on a hillside - he has no desire to impress anyone anymore, least of all his teachers or school mates.

 

Instead, he’s surprised to find he wants to do this for  _ himself.  _

 

Sleep doesn’t return to tempt him back into bed, leaving him awake until at last the sun begins to peek across the horizon, and he hears his mother get up and start moving around. He knows she expects him to still be asleep for some time yet, and he’s perfectly fine with just… sitting here, going over what Ignis told him last night, forcing himself to remember with perfect clarity the way the man had laid the problems out, and explained how to find the answers. 

 

Why had it seemed to complicated coming from everyone else? What had their explanations lacked that Ignis’ hadn’t?

 

_ “Everyone has a different method, Tsunayoshi,” Ignis says, tapping the paper with a finger. “This is merely one of the approaches to it. If this doesn’t work, we’ll try it another way. There are a thousand ways this can go - we need only go until we find what works for you.” _

 

“Different approaches,” he mumbles, glancing at the clock. It’s getting to be about that time, so he puts down the notes and goes to finish getting ready. His bag is already packed, and his mother’s gone to the market - she doesn’t bother making breakfast much anymore, given Tsuna’s never up when she is, and he never answers when she calls for him. Another problem he’s just learned to live with. He grabs his uniform, tugging it on before grabbing his bag and the notes. 

 

They don’t use double-digit multiplication much anymore, having moved on to much more complicated things, but just having the notes there would make the day go a little bit easier. Knowledge within reach that he  _ can  _ understand, that he’s not stupid, no matter what other people claim. He might never be an athlete or a rocket scientist, but he can understand things. He’s not stupid. He’s  _ not. _

 

That thought repeats itself in his head as he walks to school, and it’s the only reason he doesn’t walk as carefully as he normally would, why he takes the main street instead of the side alleys that take twice as long. Why he never realizes he’s being followed until he’s through the school gates, and people are snickering. He hears that, and every instinct honed by years of bullying shoots adrenaline through his body, telling him  _ run!  _

 

He does, but in his carelessness he’s allowed them too close, and they catch him by one of the bigger windows overlooking the courtyard, laughing as they surround him, shove him between them, back and forth like a pinball.

 

“Look what we caught! Dame-Tsuna, walking around like he deserves to be here!”

 

“Oi, what’s that he’s got there?”

 

Hands reach for the notes Tsuna holds, but he brings them to his body, curling around them protectively. For once, there is fire in his breast, an unwillingness to give in. After so long of living his life without, he refuses to give up what little he understands  _ now! _

 

But the bullies are bigger and meaner still, and between the five of them they peel arms back from his body, shoving him and trapping him while one takes the notes, looking through them and then laughing.

 

“Pathetic. Fucking notes on double multiplication, and it’s not even in his hand! Probably stole ‘em off someone, didn’t you Sawada?”

 

And then he balls the notes out and throws them out the window, aiming for the small pond near the edge of the grass. Tsuna makes an wordless exclamation, an encapsulation of  _ no,  _ grief and horror all rolled into one when the notes hit water, and soak.

 

He scarcely has long to worry when the first blow of someone’s fist finds his eye, and then the second his stomach, and he’s being shoved to the ground hard, kept there by feet to the back.

 

“Worthless piece of shit,” one of them hisses, and it’s cruel just like always. “Acting like--”

 

Tsuna never finds out what he’s acting like, because in the next second the weight on his back vanishes, and there’s a drop in temperature to the air around him as a  _ presence  _ fills the space.

 

“Gentlemen,” Ignis Scientia’s voice would make glaciers tremble at this moment. “I do believe I’ve made my stance on bullying  _ abundantly clear.  _ Do you require a reminder?”

 

Tsuna turns his head, breathing through the pain like he’s taught himself to do, and looks up with his good eye. Ignis Scientia is half-crouched over him, a gloved hand hovering over Tsuna’s back. A solid touch to keep him down, a silent command. Tsuna’s only too grateful for it - his face aches something fierce, and the guilt over his lost notes is a pain all it’s own.

 

The five hem and haw and try to make excuses. They’re used to dealing with teachers that look the other way, not ones that brazenly charge forward and lay the blame where it’s needed. And staring into Ignis’ green eyes, taking in the contempt dripping from his expression, as cold and calculated as any great predator, Tsuna has oddly never felt safer. For now he closes his eyes, and lets Ignis deal with this. For now, he allows himself to follow Ignis’ silent order and stay down.

 

_ Not always, though,  _ he finds himself thinking.  _ I don’t want this forever. _

 

And the sharpness of that thought catches him somewhere between the ribs and tears, ripping him open wide. It isn’t enough now, he realizes, for him to simply, meekly drag himself through day after day. All at once he’s been made aware of something he’s been missing his whole life, given to him by the hands of an outsider, and suddenly it is no longer good enough that he’s being treated the way he is.

 

He wants peace. He wants quiet. But more than anything, he wants the people around him to stop treating him like he’s nothing better than the dirt beneath their feet.

 

“Tsunayoshi?”

 

The discovery could not have found a worst time to reveal itself. And Tsuna struggles to breathe in, and struggles even harder to shove the sudden knowledge that he wants  _ better  _ for himself - not just with numbers and languages and learning but with  _ everything  _ \- back down into the darkness of himself. Because on the heels of this discovery there is fear, a wild, primal screeching in the back of his brain that will not quiet no matter how hard he tries. The same screeching that’s been there since he was labeled as  _ Dame Tsuna  _ and left to flounder and drown by himself.

 

“I’m fine,” he manages, and sucks in another breath, and then another, and a third before he finally speaks again. “Just… give me a minute, please?”

 

No teacher Tsuna knows would let him lie here, on the floor in the aftermath of an attempted beating. But as Ignis Scientia has proven thrice now, he isn’t like anyone else at this school. Something shifts in his gaze, turning the frigid green a touch warmer. More understanding. “Of course.”

 

Tsuna takes a moment, closes his eye and forces down the terror that wants to rise up out of his throat in the form of a familiar scream. Forces down the tiny, smouldering kernel of a queer selfishness that would choose  _ now  _ of all times to manifest. When he’s certain nothing is going to rebel on him, and he’s safe, he grits his teeth and pushes himself up.

 

Tries to, at least. Ignis is there in a moment, hands gentle as he takes Tsuna’s arm with one hand, his side with the other, and pulls him to his feet. Having the man in front of him and the bullies gone reminds him of his next problem. One that’s probably going to have Ignis finally reacting like every other adult in his life, and dropping him like a hot coal, disgusted with him.

 

_ It’s been nice, at least,  _ he thinks, and tries not to flinch when Ignis puts a gentle hand under his chin to turn his head, looking at the swelling around his left eye. The little scowl on his face pretty much tells him the eye is already in bad shape, and will probably be black by tomorrow, if not later today.

 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles before he can lose his nerve.

“Am I to understand you are apologizing for being attacked?” Ignis asks slowly, distaste coloring his every word. Some of that vanishes when Tsuna shakes his head, careful not to dislodge Ignis’ touch. “Then what?”

 

“Your notes. They got ruined.” He turns his head to the pond outside, where the notes are no longer floating on top of the water, but sunken down to the bottom, probably in tatters. “All that hard work dealing with me last night, and I couldn’t even manage this much. I’m sorry. I’ll understand if you don’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

 

He expects anger, frustration, some kind of exclamation. Perhaps something along the lines of  _ you wasteful child!  _ Or an accusation of laziness, which is usually the one people go for. He kind of doesn’t want to look up to see, instead gluing his eyes to the floor, to Ignis’ polished shoes that seem like they cost a lot of money.

 

At length though, there is no explosion, no anger, no harsh words slapping him like a blow to the head. There is just a silence that grows and grows, until Tsuna finds himself wondering when Ignis is finally going to get around to leaving him. He shouldn’t look up - he should keep his head down, and that way he won’t have to see the disappointment in Ignis’ eyes when the shock finally wears off.

 

...but the shock should have worn off already, shouldn’t it?

 

He braves a look beneath his bangs.

 

Ignis’ expression could be cut from marble, it’s so stony. His eyes have shifted into a deeper green, something resembling the deep forests Tsuna saw pictures of online one time when he looked up the Himalayan rainforests. His stance is straight, posture perfect. “I see,” he says at last, quietly. “So that is how it is to be, then.”

 

His hand moves, and Tsuna flinches without meaning to, stepping back quickly and dropping his gaze again. Here it comes, he tells himself, shoulders drawing up tight without meaning to.

 

In an instant it all unravels, as Ignis does not strike him, but instead puts into his line of sight six pieces of paper. It takes Tsuna a moment, but he realizes what he’s seeing. His head snaps back up, mouth falling open in wordless astonishment.

 

Ignis looks back at him, his expression shifted into something far softer, far more patient. More like last night, as he walked Tsuna through a land of numbers. “If you expected me to come unprepared for such things, you would be wrong. I told you, Tsunayoshi, I will teach you until you learn. Here now is a good lesson for you to take into consideration - always make at least two extra copies of everything, and keep them separated from your first set. That way, should anything befall one set, you have two more you can rely on.”

 

He gently takes Tsuna’s hands and curls them around the notes, and nods, apparently satisfied. “Best get to class now. I’ll see you in two hours, alright? Oh, and stop by the nurse and do something about that eye.”

 

And he wanders off, like he hasn’t just shaken what little remains of Tsuna’s world. Like he’s hasn’t done the impossible, and remained the one adult in Tsuna’s life who has continued to treat him like a living person rather than a stepping stone on the sidewalk to be ignored. 

 

Tsuna clutches the notes between his hands, eyes burning as a rush of warmth fills his stomach. The strange need to cry from yesterday comes back with a vengeance, along with the desire to throw himself at the nearest wall and beat it until his hands bleed or the wall gives way, whichever comes first.

 

In the end however, he does neither, instead following Ignis’ third order and trudging to the nurse’s office to get his wounds tended to and his eye checked. He puts ice over it to keep the swelling down, and when the clock ticks down to where he has no choice but to go to class, replaces the ice with a patch and heads off.

 

The little nod he gets from Ignis upon seeing it makes the warmth in his chest threaten to strangle him, even as it makes his hands shake at the same time. He sits upright in class, and manages to keep his head up. Manages somehow to follow along with the lesson, even as his brain skitters along a thousand different paths, and there’s an old desire to fold himself up like a cardboard suitcase and read manga behind his textbooks.

 

But he doesn’t. He listens, and takes notes, and when he rereads them later, he almost understands it. Not quite, but even just understanding  _ a little  _ of it fills him with enough joy to make him want to sing.

 

_ I can do this,  _ the ashes in him whisper.  _ I can keep going. _

 

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0** _

  
  


It’s truly amazing, what a little kindness can do in the face of a fragile human heart. It’s only the second day of their meeting, but Tsuna’s attention in class is already starting to get better. Ignis can tell he’s still struggling with the material, but now that the seeds have been planted, he’s starting to figure things out. He’s no longer got his head down like a tired thing, weathered and worn and ready for the final nap of his life. He still ducks his head, still avoids long periods of eye contact, but he is  _ present  _ in the room. 

 

And his is not the only development Ignis is happy to see progress in. The other students, perhaps upon hearing what happened this morning, quiet down as soon as Ignis enters the room. There is no heckling among them when Tsuna fails his answers, no smiles or sneers or nasty little whispers. A few of them look like they want to try, but a quick glance from Ignis causes their courage to fail, and they hastily turn back to their own business. 

 

But of course, for every bit of good news, there must be a bit of bad as well. He’s fresh out of the lesson for the day when Nezu finds him, the man coming from the opposite end of the hallway, the papers under his arms telling him he’s heading in to where Ignis just left.

 

He sniffs once he’s close enough, and says, “The principal wants to see you, Scientia.”

 

It seems the students are not the only ones who caught rumor of today’s happenings. But Ignis is nothing if not cultured, and a smooth talker besides. He dutifully informs the principal - a small, nervous-looking man whose eyes dart around the room nearly as much as Tsuna’s do - that he stepped in after encountering the harassment of a student. Yes, he understands that Sawada Tsunayoshi’s grades are low, and people feel the need to kick him because of that, but things won’t get better unless Tsunayoshi is allowed to live and breathe without fear of his life.

 

“At the end of the day, sir,” Ignis adds, “He is a child. And no child should feel so hunted by his fellows that skipping school would be  _ preferable.  _ If you take issue with my handling of this situation, by all means, fire me.”  _ I shall take Tsunayoshi beneath my wings outside your walls, and you will never see him again,  _ he doesn’t add. 

 

Truth be told, that’s always been his plan, one way or another. Get Tsuna on his own two feet, and then introduce the idea of removing him from the school altogether - a one on one education, from someone with a high education who can walk him through every lesson he needs, and then some. It would allow Ignis to delicately begin weaving the two worlds together, and starting the lessons of the mob in as well as the traditional learnings he will be expected to know when he gets to Italy. Doing so a little sooner would be risky, but Ignis has handled far worse situations with far less. 

 

The principal isn’t nearly as cold-hearted as the rest of the school, nor is he as stalwart. He crumbles beneath Ignis’ light pressure of the subject, mumbling something about the kindness of strangers before letting Ignis go. 

 

Nezu clearly isn’t expecting him to come back at all, if the double take he does when the door opens and Ignis enters is any indication. “You’re still here?” he squawks. “But- I thought--”

 

“You thought wrong,” Ignis says, projecting a calm he doesn’t quite feel all the way through. The predator in him wants to lash out, wants to pin this inadequate little failure of a man to the wall by the throat and show him just what he’s invited into this school. He doesn’t, because he still needs access to Tsuna for a little bit longer. Needs to solidify himself in Tsuna’s life as a trusted figure, someone he can turn to for anything, no matter what. Between here and the tutoring lessons, he’s well on his way to doing just that. But he still needs time.

 

So instead of snarling Nezu down like he wants, he pulls his seat up and begins to sort through his work, ignoring Nezu’s gaze still lingering on him, shock written around his eyes. It never does quite go away through the rest of the day, and he darts glances at Ignis throughout his work, as though he can’t believe this is actually happening.

 

He pauses over Tsunayoshi’s work, eyes narrowing a fraction as he noticed the boy has gotten several of the more common elements mixed around -  _ I’ll have to add that to the itinerary,  _ he thinks, already planning ways to weave the science and math together in future lessons, to make it easier still. 

 

He’s always enjoyed a good challenge with his recipes, after all. That’s half the fun of cooking - trying again and again until it turns out just perfect. So why should his students be any different? Trial and error until he finds what works for each of them, giving them another stepping stone by which to climb to new heights. 

 

He makes a note in the margins -  _ we’ll discuss this during our tutoring  _ \- and leaves it at that. He imagines Tsuna’s first thought will be that Ignis is disappointed or angry like earlier (And  _ that  _ encounter was its own very telling can of worms, which Ignis will deal with at a much later date. But the foundations first - the pillars next.) and will come to their next tutoring session expecting as much. Ignis intends to impart a lesson here too - never expect that he is in trouble by those simple phrases. 

 

Ignis is not Nezu Dohachiro. He is not going to insist that the teacher need always be right, that the student must always listen and never speak, and that one flaw in his nature makes him an ultimate failure. This too, Ignis will impart on young Tsunayoshi. He can ask questions, make demands of his environment, seek out what he desires by himself. He can learn and grow at his own pace, at his own comfort, with the judgement of no one but himself.

 

And that, he thinks far too dryly, will truly be the only judgement he will need. After all, one is often one’s own biggest and harshest critic. There’s no reason to heap more baggage on the boy when his own mind will provide him with all the guilt and self-loathing he’ll ever need.

 

By the time Ignis is done however, the self-loathing will not exist. At least not in the amount it does now - a dash now and again to keep one’s self humble is all well and good, but not when it cripples the boy to the point of nearly being made lame by it.

 

His work is certainly cut out for him. Fortunately for them all, Ignis has never been afraid of hard work.


	3. Chapter 3

The storm rolls in the next morning, erupting at five a.m just as Ignis is turning on the coffee pot. Most storms Ignis has witnessed during his time in Japan tend to start off as a drizzle, and then slowly escalate into something monstrous. This storm however has been building for a while, and so it doesn’t bother slowly building it’s way up. It drops, and within moments Ignis can’t see the outside world, or even hear himself think over the noise it makes. Even with umbrellas, people would be hard-pressed to want to do anything outside in this weather.

 

He pours himself a cup of steaming coffee the way he likes it, sighing into the first sip. Then pauses when a thought crosses his mind.

 

It is very likely that in storms such as these, all children have umbrellas and coats. However, it is just as likely that with his long-standing record of issues, Sawada Tsunayoshi would find his umbrella, and quite possibly his coat, swiped and left to run to school in the rain, and arrive soaking wet to be mocked by his peers.

 

He knows Tsunayoshi will take care. Both he and Nana seemed aware of the storm’s approach last night, if the amount of blankets and hot foods around the house were any indication, as well as Nana’s attempt to sway him into staying the night that he’d once again declined. But taking care is only possible when others aren’t out to sabotage you.

 

It could be seen as strange, a teacher and a student walking to school together. But Ignis has the easy excuse that he lives further out than Tsuna, and simply caught him on the way to school. An excuse nobody can disprove - not with Nana’s blessing for him looking out for her son. And so long as he doesn’t make it a habit, nobody would accuse him of doing anything  _ untoward  _ with his young charge. It would simply be a chance meeting in the rain. 

 

He dresses warmly for the cold rain, and taking into account the slowdown in traffic that usually comes from more cautious driving, leaves a little bit earlier. True to his expectations, he finds Tsunayoshi rushing towards school, bag over his head, both coat and umbrella absent.

 

“Tsunayoshi!” he calls out, and Tsuna stops and turns, eyes going wide as he spots Ignis. He hesitates, and then when Ignis beckons him impatiently, runs over.

 

“Come here now, beneath the umbrella, there’s a good lad.”

 

Tsuna’s already soaked to the bone, shivering hard as he presses his bag to his chest. Having worn layers for this very reason, Ignis slips out of his jacket and trades it for Tsuna’s bag, ignoring the stuttering, “ _ but I can’t--”  _ he gets.

 

“You can, and you will,” Ignis says firmly. “I’ll not have you freezing to death because those brats made off with your clothes and umbrella.”

 

A rush of red paints Tsuna’s face. “I’ll get your jacket wet!” he tries.

 

“Well then it’s a very good thing I can always hang it up to dry later,” Ignis remarks. “Have you spare clothes at school?”

 

Tsuna nods miserably. “The last, um, time this happened, I didn’t,” he murmurs. “It wasn’t the rain though.”

 

“Somehow,” Ignis says just as quietly, “That does not surprise me in the least. And shoes?”

 

“Yeah. Everything but um, p-private stuff.”

 

So no dry undergarments then. Fortunately, there is the teacher’s bathroom on the second floor - Ignis know for a fact it goes unused at least until second period - and there is a high-powered hand dryer in said bathroom. It’s hardly any roaring fireplace but in a pinch, it will work.

 

“When we get to school, grab your spares and come with me.”

 

“Sir?”

 

“Did I not say I won’t have you freezing to death? That means all of you, Tsunayoshi. Sitting with wet underwear will guarantee it will simply soak through your spare pants. You don’t need to be ridiculed more when a simple solution will prevent that.”

 

Tsuna opens his mouth, perhaps to argue, or to ask what the solution  _ is,  _ but seems to think better of such an idea after a moment, to Ignis’ disappointment. 

 

He remains tense as they walk, shoulders hunched even beneath the weight and warmth of Ignis’ jacket. Ignis keeps his gaze ahead, his strides short so Tsuna can keep beneath the umbrella without issue. He sometimes catches Tsuna glancing up at him beneath his lashes, or out of the corner of his eye while he thinks Ignis isn’t looking. Even now, he remains wary, uncertain of the man who is offering him kindness with no strings attached. 

 

“Are you--”

 

Ignis looks over. Tsuna’s mouth is pressed tight, head bowed, fingers digging into the front of the jacket. He takes in a deep breath, and demands quietly, “Are you only doing this so I don’t cause the school any more problems, sir?”

 

Ignis lets the question linger in the air between them, and takes in a few deep breaths of his own. “No,” he says at last, and he can’t keep the sharpness from his voice, the quiet threat of a blade being drawn, yet unseen by the enemy. “And if I were, I assure you, you would know.”

 

“Then  _ why,  _ sir?” Some boldness has crept up into Tsunayoshi when he wasn’t looking, it seems. Or perhaps it’s a result of this freedom - that Tsunayoshi trusts him in some way not to lie, not to deceive, and not to try to clip his wings before he’s even begun to fly. A rebellious attitude that was smothered beneath years of cold warnings and harsh treatment, now unfurling in the face of a man he doesn’t know how to handle.

 

And that’s fine, as far as Ignis is concerned. He can be patient like this too, patient enough to weather whatever emotional storms Tsunayoshi throws at him. If it is what Tsunayoshi needs, then Ignis will give it to him readily.

 

So when they draw to a stop at a light, Ignis takes his chance and looks down into Tsuna’s eyes, meeting him challenge for challenge. “Because,” he says, just loud enough for Tsuna to hear. “I have seen your kind before. I have seen the children who have had their desires cut down, their youth spent ahead of its time, their progress yanked out from beneath them because of some  _ flaw  _ society will not abide. I am tired of seeing their tragedies, and I am tired of seeing lackluster adults standing around who will not  _ prevent  _ those tragedies. I swore never to be one such adult, Tsunayoshi. And I always stand by my word.”

 

The light turns green, and they move on. Ignis gives his charge time to stew over the words, as they walk the last two blocks to Namimori Middle. As he expects, there are a few glances thrown over their way when they enter the gate, and he catches sight of a couple of girls ducking behind their hands to murmur to each other. Tsuna evidently catches sight of it too, but rather than faltering and ducking deeper beneath the jacket, he stands taller, something like a stare of defiance on his face as they walk. 

 

_ Good boy, Tsunayoshi,  _ Ignis thinks.  _ Another point to you. Let the chains fall, and step out of their reach. They have no hold on you here.  _

 

He taps his umbrella as dry as he can as he folds it up while Tsuna goes to get his spare clothes. As soon as he reappears, Ignis leads him upstairs to the second floor men’s bathroom. “The hand dryer inside is small, but it should work for what you don’t have spares for,” he explains, and Tsuna’s face rushes crimson. “I will guard the door, and ensure no one comes in. Take your time.”

 

Tsuna looks like he wants to say something, mouth working fruitlessly as his face turns red, but in the end he ducks into the room, shoulders hunched again. Ignis hears the unmistakable click of the lock on the door as he tucks himself up against it, and smiles.

 

_ Three points,  _ he awards.  _ Very good, Tsunayoshi. _

 

**0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0**

 

He locks the door out of fear. 

 

His hands shake as he does it, but he locks the door and then steps back slowly, thoughts of Ignis trying to open the door to find he  _ can’t,  _ and getting upset, starting to pound on the door--

 

No. No, he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t get angry. Not at Tsuna. He would get angry that Tsuna’s had to train himself to lock doors behind him, because the teachers don’t care. The teachers don’t care and the students don’t care, and Tsuna shouldn’t be so utterly terrified by one man and his continuous acts of kindness but he  _ is. _

 

He’s terrified all the way down to his  _ soul,  _ expecting time and again for the other shoe to drop, for Ignis to dust off his hands and say  _ that’s that,  _ and be on his way. But it doesn’t happen. It keeps  _ not happening,  _ and it’s enough to make Tsuna want to curl up into a ball and cry. 

 

Nobody should look at him the way Ignis does. Nobody should be able to so casually drape a jacket over his shoulders, and tell him things like  _ I am tired of seeing those tragedies, tired of seeing lackluster adults standing around who will not prevent those tragedies.  _ These actions shouldn’t make him feel like he’s part of a dance he doesn’t know the steps to, and he’s wildly flailing along, but somehow keeping pace throughout it all. 

 

This man, a teacher, shouldn’t look at him with such conviction, and make him feel with a simple nod of his head or a gleam of his eyes that he can accomplish  _ anything.  _ Nobody’s ever looked at him like that, like they want him to demand the world on a platter, and will show him how to get it, whole and unmarred, in the process.

 

He puts his clothes down on the sink, looking at himself in the mirror. Young, wide-eyed, looking the same as he does every day. Nothing has changed, at least not here. But something  _ has  _ on the inside - that fire from earlier is back, the one that whispered  _ I want more, I don’t want to be treated like this anymore, you will  _ **_stop_ ** _ treating me like this.  _ The one that try as he can, Tsuna hasn’t been able to snuff back out. Ignis keeps  _ feeding  _ it, and it’s getting too big now. 

 

He wrings his boxers out over the sink, and then turns the dryer on, moving the cloth back and forth as he thinks. Someone will accuse Ignis of favoritism before long, if this doesn’t do it. Or they’ll start spreading rumors that Tsuna is sleeping with him for grades, because he and Ignis are almost always around each other. Granted nobody knows he’s being tutored, but it doesn’t take a genius to see that Ignis helps him a lot, and does things for him that he doesn’t do for other kids, like scaring bullies off and keeping him from bowing his head in class. All it would take is one person saying something--

 

He flinches away at the thought. As soon as his underwear is dry enough, he slips it back on, and then the spare uniform. It’s like he was never out in the rain at all. Although that does leave him with the question of what to do with his wet clothes. He debates sticking them under the hand dryer too, but isn’t sure he has the necessary time to do that, get them back in his locker and get to class before the bell rings. 

 

Before he can come to a decision on the matter, there’s a noise outside. It takes him a moment of listening to realize what he’s hearing and his heart stutters in his chest, blood running cold. 

 

Raised voices. Ignis’ voice, firm, and  _ Nezu.  _ One of Tsuna’s most persistent tormentors, one of the most heartless teachers who sneer down at those who do not ace the tests and follow the curriculum  _ perfectly.  _ Tsuna has no idea when he started fearing Nezu actively, but it was probably around the same time the bullies learned that Nezu would turn a blind eye to mostly  _ anything  _ concerning Tsuna, in or out of the classroom.

 

There’s a pause in the voices, and Tsuna’s heart only thuds harder at the silence. Then comes a soft knock at the door - three perfect taps. 

 

_ Ignis. _

 

A reminder that he has someone in his corner, and that someone is standing outside right now stopping anyone from barging into the bathroom. The very same someone Tsuna fears - but Tsuna fears  _ him  _ because he is kind. The phrase ‘kill them with kindness’ was probably created with Ignis in mind.

 

He doesn’t want to go outside, and face Nezu. But he also doesn’t want to let Ignis down. And he knows Ignis won’t let Nezu hurt him - he  _ knows  _ that, and that scares him too, that he knows that as surely as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. So he takes in a deep breath, folds his wet clothes up as best he can, makes sure he looks presentable, and then with shaking hands, he unlocks the door.

 

The first thing he sees is Ignis’ back. That in and of itself is a mercy, as it gives him another moment to compose himself, to breathe and remember  _ it’s okay, he won’t let Nezu hurt you.  _ “I’m ready sir,” he says as calmly as he can, and that’s when Ignis turns just slightly, and Nezu’s eyes meet his. 

 

There’s always a certain loathing behind those black eyes when Tsuna looks, but this time the loathing is already there, this time directed at the man currently watching Tsuna like a hawk. 

 

“What are you playing at, Scientia?” Nezu hisses, and Tsuna shrinks back, fighting against the urge to run as far and as fast in the opposite direction as he can. Ignis’ hand catches him before he can, pressing flat between his shoulder blades, urging him forward, rather than back. “I warned you against playing favorites!”

 

“So ensuring a student isn’t dripping wet when he arrives to school is playing favorites now, is it?” Ignis demands coolly. “Were it any other child, I wouldn’t be having this issue I surmise. In fact, you’d practically praise me for it. No, I assure you, I don’t need to hear how  _ wrong  _ I am - not when I know otherwise.”

 

“You must know what this  _ looks  _ like,” Nezu snaps, and gestures harshly to Tsuna. “A student coming out of a private bathroom, and you, guarding the door like some kind of predator. Do you want to ruin our reputation even more?”

 

Tsuna feels bile rush up his throat, and swallows hastily.  _ No, no, no-- _

 

Ignis doesn’t so much as flinch in the face of the accusation. “Unless you have proof I’m in some way grooming or harming Sawada Tsunayoshi, I’d like you to keep your slanderous accusations to  _ yourself,  _ Dohachiro-san. Spouting such things in the face of your increasingly erratic actions might lead someone to believe you’re jealous of me.”

 

“ _ Jealous?!”  _ Nezu shrieks, and Tsuna does duck this time, unable to stop himself from doing so. Ignis moves his hand to pull Tsuna directly behind him, so he can no longer see Nezu, or likewise. It’s a move that allows him to breathe, because it tells Tsuna precisely what is going to happen if Nezu tries to hurt him. “How can someone possibly be jealous of  _ you?!” _

 

“Quite easily, when you consider it,” Ignis says, and begins to steer Tsuna away, keeping him behind him at all times. “After all, you consider your ‘higher education’ some sort of laudable point to hold over others. And yet I am the only one here with several degrees beneath my belt. And you’ve already tried to have me dragged before the Principal on false charges.”

 

“You can’t prove that!” Nezu rages.

 

“And quite frankly, you can’t prove I’m doing anything that would harm Sawada-kun. So we’re at an impasse. Mind your words in the future, Dohachiro-san. I won’t tolerate this disrespect again. Not against myself, or a student.” 

 

They start moving then, and Tsuna forces himself to breathe with each step away they take. He peeks back over his shoulder, just to make sure Dohachiro isn’t hot on their tail. He isn’t, but the way he watches them walk away… there’s something  _ disquieting  _ about the way he watches them, and it makes Tsuna shiver like a gust of cold wind has just shot down his back. They take two turns before Ignis speaks again, his voice pitched low, soothing.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Tsuna swallows, hauls in a breath, and says, “I’m going to be sick.”

 

Ignis throws open a window and hefts him up just in time for Tsuna to lose every bit of the breakfast he was able to put down. It isn’t much, but he hates it all the same - this fear, this anxiety of everything and everyone around him. The sensation that he can’t put the terror down for even a  _ moment,  _ not unless it’s during tutoring with Ignis. 

 

He spits, coughs, spits again. The rain soaks his face and hair, contrasting against the heat of his skin. When at last he has enough strength in his limbs to pull back and shut the window, Ignis has one arm around him, steadying.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “That was cruel of me, Tsunayoshi. I should have de-escalated the situation as soon as I could have.”

 

“It’s not your fault,” Tsuna swallows down the bitter taste in the back of his throat, wincing at the burn. “He’s always hated me. He’s just looking for an excuse to get rid of me for good.”

 

“Yes, but I provided him that opening. And more to the point, given your aversion to everyone else, I should have guessed that man would be no different and gotten you out of there much faster. There is no excuse for my failure on this.”

 

Of course Ignis would try to take responsibility for something like this, something that’s been going on long before his arrival. “It’s not your fault,” he says again, and tries to firm his voice. Given the hard look Ignis lays on him, it doesn’t quite work. “I’m Dame Tsuna. If it wasn’t over this, it would have been over something else.”

 

“And you think that makes it fine?” Ignis demands. “That a grown adult should come at a teenager the way this school comes at you? You think somehow that wearing that title like a badge of honor makes it  _ acceptable?” _

 

“It doesn’t make it okay,” Tsuna says, raking a hand through his hair. This is the most open he’s ever been, and just like everything else concerning Ignis, it scares the crap out of him. “But it makes it easier to deal with than thinking of the truth.”

 

“And what is the truth?”

 

Tsuna closes his eyes and quivers. He wants to cry, but he thinks he’s used all his tears up for the day on Ignis’ kindness. “That they’re selfish enough, heartless enough, to pretend to care until they have a reason not to. And because nobody is stopping them except you, and you aren’t here to teach every generation how to be kind.”

 

“No,” Ignis says after a long moment of silence. “But I am here now.”

 

“Yeah,” Tsuna agrees, and gives in and lets himself lean forward, enough that his head is resting on Ignis’ stomach. “Yeah, you are. And that’s enough for me.”


	4. Chapter 4

The next week is suspiciously quiet, in and out of the school. The storm spends another two days pouring buckets of rain down on everyone’s heads, but Tsuna’s bullies do not attempt their theft of jacket and umbrella again, much to Ignis’ relief. Of course, that’s hardly a concrete fix against everything else, but a small reprieve is still a reprieve. 

 

Nezu is a different matter. Ignis can tell immediately that the man in stewing in his last words, furious but recognizing that right now, Ignis is beyond his reach. It’s hard to tell what’s worse at this point - his frank, unrestrained jealousy over Ignis, or his utter loathing and disgust over Tsunayoshi. Here Ignis can only do so much, but what he can do is cultivate relationships with the other teachers, offer help and make himself useful. Build up a protective wall of reputation with the other teachers, so that when Nezu inevitably tries something (because men like him do not simply  _ let go  _ of their petty grievances, no matter who those grievances be against) Ignis can counter him.

 

Tsunayoshi however is still terribly vulnerable to his machinations, and the tutoring sessions between them have become as much therapy as teaching. Tsuna quivers until the door is closed and locked, and only once he’s sure he’s left the school behind for good does he finally stop. They haven’t moved from downstairs, not yet, but the situation with the wet clothes and the bathroom has opened up yet another door between them, and while Tsuna still clams up sometimes, he still speaks far freer than he did the first few times they did this.

 

“He’s going to try something, isn’t he?” Tsuna mumbles around his pencil eraser one long session, when the sky outside is still dark and cloudy but no longer storming. 

 

“What makes you think so?” Ignis asks, reaching out to bat the pencil out of his charge’s mouth. Tsuna’s mouth twists, but he obediently stops chewing. Ignis will have to get him something for that, perhaps a chewable lanyard or one of those candy necklaces. 

 

“I have this bad feeling in my gut - Mom said to trust that.” He fiddles with the edge of his book, darting looks to the material and then up at Ignis.

 

“Ask,” Ignis orders, for all that he already expects the question.

 

“I-If...um.” He sucks in a deep breath, and barrels on. “If I get expelled, what’ll happen?”

 

“What makes you think he will find a crime to expel you with?” Ignis asks smoothly. “Expulsion is very much a last resort, Tsunayoshi. And despite whatever caterwauling Dohachiro-san likes to do, your grades  _ are  _ improving.”

 

Which honestly, isn’t helping the whole ‘loathing’ thing. Some of the students are mumbling about Tsuna cheating, but they’re the ones who don’t share a class with Tsuna and Ignis - those students keep their mouths shut on the subject, because they at least have seen the way Tsuna’s been knuckling down, struggling and fighting with concepts and winning. Nobody knows about the tutoring still, but the worst they can accuse Ignis of at this point is teaching him lessons in advance. Which is hardly a crime fit for expulsion.

 

Tsuna fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “Because he hates me? And most of the school still calls me Dame Tsuna, and--”

 

“And what crime have you committed to get yourself expelled?” Ignis cuts through the anxiety. “If they drag you into the office, you demand proof of evidence for expulsion. A reason. If they don’t provide one, they have no grounds on which to expel you, and it will look like they’re simply doing this out of petty personal grievance.”

 

Which reminds him, he needs to reach out to the Hibari clan here in Namimori. Their son is a wild creature, all biting teeth snapping at hands bigger than he, and Ignis will not have him beating Tsunayoshi up every time he’s a few seconds too fast in the hall, or late to class. They will either take their son in hand, or Ignis will do it for them - and if Ignis has to do it, it will not be pretty.

 

Tsuna’s still staring at him with those dewy eyes filled with a fear that doesn’t recognize logic, and so Ignis lays down the papers, folds his hands, and decides blunt truth will get him further than cold logic right now. “If by some chance under Heaven they manage to find  _ something  _ to pin on you, then I will still tutor you, Tsunayoshi. Actually, if that happens, quite frankly I see no reason not to call it  _ teaching  _ by that point - you will need an education no matter where in the world you go, after all. And I certainly meet all requirements for homeschooling.”

 

“You won’t… leave?” Tsuna asks, and his voice comes out terribly small, and rushed, like he doesn’t quite want Ignis to hear the question. “I-I mean, go to Namimori full time? Shouldn’t you--”

 

“My duty,” Ignis says. “Is to you. I am far less worried about impressing them when I could go anywhere in the world, teach the same exact lessons, and expect to actually be  _ listened to,  _ rather than ignored. Despite what your teachers might think, they are very small fish in a very large pond, and there are schools in Japan that would take one look at their ill-advised methods of shucking children like you to the very bottom of the pile, and refuse to have anything to do with them. Out of all of those children, you require more time, more attention, more focus on an education. And more to the point, I enjoy teaching you far more than them.”

 

Tsuna’s mouth falls open, cheeks flaring red. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with that, making little choked off sounds like he wants to put emotions into words, but can’t quite seem to find the vowels and consonants to shape them. 

 

“You can’t just say that,” he manages to get out after a time. He buries his face in his hands, reaching up to drag his hair down in front of his eyes like a hood. “You’re too scary.”

 

Ignis quirks an eyebrow. “Am I? Pray tell how.”

 

“You don’t lie,  _ ever.  _ You don’t… you don’t  _ care  _ about decorum and distance and how this all  _ looks!  _ You just… you just…” He falls silent with a frustrated whine, still hiding behind his hands and hair. 

 

Ignis hums. “So the honesty frightens you. As well it should - in the right hands, it can be a lethal weapon. But it cuts both ways, Tsunayoshi.”

 

“What is that supposed to mean,” Tsuna mumbles.

 

“It means I’m not using it to make you afraid, I’m using it because it is what you  _ deserve. _ Nothing less would suffice. And besides, I would rather think you’re tired of being lied to.”

 

He expects more avoidance. But Tsuna lifts his hands, hair falling back without his clutching fingers to hold it down, and meets his gaze with tired eyes. 

 

“How do you exist?”

 

Ignis’ lips crook up. “Quite easily, thank you.”

 

Tsuna’s eyes close; he drops his head down onto the desk. Ignis hears something vaguely like  _ demon  _ mumbled into the wood, and just chuckles.

 

“Back to work now. We can discuss my demonic origins at a later date.”

 

Even despite the warnings Ignis’ gives however, there is no predicting people. Even someone like Dohachiro, faced by someone like Ignis leaves room for unknown plans to come to fruition. Which is why when Ignis doesn’t see Tsunayoshi come to class one morning, his immediate thought is not that something has occurred, merely that Tsuna is perhaps running a bit late. Old habits are hard to shake, after all, and he doesn’t expect Tsuna to suddenly change his entire life overnight. 

 

But when he still doesn’t see him in the halls, or in the bathrooms, or even during the next period - that’s when he begins to suspect Tsuna has either suddenly gotten ill, or something has happened. 

 

His work with Tsuna has not gone entirely unnoticed, it seems. One of the younger aides approaches him towards the end of fifth period, while he’s hunched over his desk, frowning at nothing in particular.

 

“Scientia-san?”

 

He looks up from his work. “Yes? Amane-san, was it?”

 

She smiles at him. “Um, I know it’s not my place, but Sawada-kun got called to the principal’s office earlier. I just thought, um. Well, you seemed worried, earlier.”

 

His gut is suddenly tight, anxiety winding through him.  _ Calm,  _ he tells himself.  _ You discussed what to do with Tsunayoshi. He will do fine. _

 

“I was, given how well Sawada-kun’s been doing in his classes. I didn’t want him falling behind. Do you happen to know why he’s been pulled to the office?”

 

Amane’s smile dips; she glances around and then slides closer, covering her mouth. “Dohachiro-san brought his change in grades up, and mentioned there was a strong possibility of him cheating. Several of the students from his other classes confirmed it, and supposedly he has proof.”

 

Ignis’ blood turns to ice in his veins. On the heels of that is a rage so profound he can’t find words to speak. “Oh?” he asks softly. “Well isn’t that  _ interesting.” _

 

“Poor kid looked scared as all heck. I told him it would be okay - I never said anything because everyone seemed so content to drag him along, but I don’t think he’s the type to do something like that. Ever since you’ve shown up and started being kind, he’s been doing better. I think he just needed a friend on his side is all, and now that he has one, he’s willing to try to better himself. You know?”

 

“I do. And I’ve seen that myself. Thank you, Amane-san. I’m grateful to you.”

 

“Ah, it’s no big deal! I just didn’t want you worrying - you looked like a father there for a while.”

 

Ignis can see it from an outsider’s perspective, and it’s a fitting narrative. “What can I say, I worry for my students. I think I’d best go speak with the Principal, however, lest he get the wrong idea.”

 

The office feels like it’s a thousand miles away, for all that Ignis marches there with the aura of a man going to war. Students hastily move aside for him, apparently sensing that something is wrong. Nobody attempts to distract or sideline him, and for that he is grateful.

 

He opens the door to the office without asking, and he’s scarcely lain eyes on Tsuna’s back - rigid straight, delicate hands clasped behind him, curled around each other so tightly the bones are standing out - when Nezu appears before the boy, grabbing the front of his shirt. “Confess, Sawada! We both know you’re not good enough to get these grades on your own, so who have you been cheating off of, huh? Or have you been buying the answers from upperclassmen?”

 

Ignis’ eyes lock onto the man’s hand on the front of Tsuna’s shirt, the tenseness of the boy’s spine, the unresponsive lock of his jaw, and lastly on the faded, foggy look to his eyes that says Sawada Tsunayoshi has fled and locked himself up somewhere nobody can follow.

 

And deep inside his own head, he feels his darker nature slide into place with a deceptively delicate  _ click,  _ a deadbolt sliding into place once more.

 

“Nezu Dohachiro,” he says, and for as softly as he speaks it, the very room seems to ring with the sound of his voice. “I suggest you let go of that boy right now before I break your arm.”

 

The man who is supposedly the principal of the school was on his feet prior, reaching out as if to stop Nezu’s actions. Now he’s back in his chair, leaning back, face white as a sheet as Ignis steps in and slowly shuts the door behind him. 

 

“This isn’t your business, Scientia! Butt out!” Dohachiro snarls, hand still fisted around Tsuna’s shirt. “He’s cheating, I know he’s cheating--”

 

“Prove it,” Ignis challenges silkily as he reaches out for Dohachiro’s arm, jabbing his thumb into the tiny crevice of his wrist between bone and vein that will make him howl and drop Tsuna post-haste. “Prove he’s cheating, Dohachiro-san. And do it  _ now.” _

 

“Scientia-san, please,” the principal tries. “No violence.”

 

Ignis turns his head, a great bird of prey in motion, and stares the principal into silence. “No violence?” he asks softly. “You demand no violence when before you entry you were allowing a fifty-something year old man to lay hands on a  _ child?  _ A child which, need I remind you, is thirteen years old, perhaps a hundred pounds wet, and has been harassed, bullied and  _ neglected  _ since before I set foot in this school? A child that you treat as scum of the earth? Yet you demand I sit back and do not commit violence in his name?”

 

The principal’s face has gone pale, save two spots of red on his cheeks. He’s not looking Ignis in the eye, in fact he’s looking  _ around  _ Ignis. “It-- it simply isn’t… good behavior.”

 

“Good behavior,” Ignis mimics. “Tell me, is that what they’re calling it now?”

 

He sets eyes on Nezu, and this time the man flinches back as if struck. Whatever expression Ignis has on his face must be terrible indeed. Or perhaps they’re finally seeing the monster behind his eyes, and realizing that they’ve allowed something with very grey morals into their students’ lives. 

 

“A brute with no discipline lays hands on a child,” Ignis says softly. “And rather than do something about it like fire him post-haste, you make his excuses. Very well then. I see now where the loyalty of this school lays, and it is not with its students.” He cups a hand gently on Tsuna’s shoulder, turning him and urging him for the door. The body obeys, but there is still no life behind his eyes. 

 

He opens the door, and looks back one last time. “And for your information,” he says. “The reason Tsunayoshi’s grades have been coming up is not because he’s been cheating, you imbecile. It’s because I’ve been tutoring him outside of school. And that is what I will continue to do now - provide him the education you so sorely lack. Consider this my resignation.”

 

The principal’s expression turns shocked. “Wai--!”

 

The door slams shut, and Ignis doesn’t wait. He bodily picks Tsuna up, and striding with the same haste as before, makes for his ward’s house.

 

As far as he’s concerned, this chapter of Tsunayoshi Sawada’s life is now  _ closed. _

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

  
  


Tsuna doesn’t know when or where he is, but he knows it’s warm, wherever it is. Which is strange, because the last thing he remembers is Nezu grabbing him sometime before school, when he was going over the notes from last night, and snarling something about  _ cheating scum like you  _ before hauling him into the Principal’s office. 

 

From there, it dissolves. He doesn’t remember anything outside of sheer terror, and anger, and then wanting to cry but recalling Ignis’ words  _ demand proof.  _

 

Now he is here, in the darkness, and it is soft and warm and there’s music playing in his ear. Soft piano music, with a violin and something that might be a harp alongside it. There’s no yelling, no screaming, no threats of violence. It’s just him and the music. 

 

For a while, he drifts. It’s nice, he thinks, not to feel stress for once. He wonders if he’ll be in jail when he wakes up, and this will all be a dream. Maybe Ignis will visit him sometimes, or his Mom. Oh who is he kidding, if he’s in jail, his Mom is never gonna want to see him again. 

 

Which means if he  _ is  _ in jail, he should probably hurry up and just get the realization over with. 

 

He is not, in fact, in jail. He’s at home, and it takes him a second to connect the warmth of his body to the blankets - ones his mother had hand-knitted years ago - of his bed. There’s a pillow beneath his head, and earphones over his ears. The blinds are drawn. The door is closed. He’s home, not at school, not in jail, not in trouble.

 

And across the room, sitting at his desk, Ignis is reading a book like it’s the most natural place in the world for him to be. 

 

Tsuna reaches up with arms that don’t seem to want to work quite yet, and manages to fumble the earphones off. By the time he looks up again, Ignis has set aside his book, and is watching him carefully.

 

“Back with me, Tsunayoshi?” he asks softly. 

 

“Y-yeah,” Tsuna manages, his voice coming out a bit slurred. He swallows, reaching for a glass of water that’s sitting on his bedside table. “What happened?”

 

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

 

“I…” Dohachiro. The principal’s office. Yelling. Anxiety. Fear. “Bad things. He… said I cheated. Tried to get me to admit it.”

 

“Did he hurt you at all?” Ignis asks. 

 

“No. Well, a little.” He looks down at the wrist Dohachiro had grabbed and yanked. There’s a smattering of bruises around them shaped like fingerprints. “Nothing that won’t heal.”

 

Ignis’ lips press into a flat line across his mouth, a sure sign of his displeasure. “May I come closer and see?”

 

Tsuna blinks. “Yeah.”

 

Ignis rises slowly, his movements obvious enough for Tsuna to read where he’ll be. He holds up his wrist, and Ignis peers down at him, frowning. “May I touch you?” he asks, and Tsuna nods. 

 

When Ignis only looks at him, he makes himself speak. “Yes.”

 

His hands are incredibly gentle, laying Tsuna’s wrist in the flat of his hand, not curling fingers around it as he inspects the damage. He does a small test that consists of him gently pressing down on certain spots, and checking if anything is broken. He always looks up at Tsuna between presses, as if ensuring it’s still alright to touch him. 

 

“It looks like it’s just some minor bruising, thank heavens,” Ignis says at last, laying Tsuna’s wrist back down on the bed. “Besides that, how are you feeling?”

 

“Tired, mainly,” Tsuna says.

 

“Do you have a headache?”

 

“Kind of.” He wasn’t aware of it before, focused on Ignis, but he can feel it now. 

 

“Do you feel queasy at all? Hungry?”

 

“No, and no.”

 

Ignis nods. “Very good. Give me a moment, and I’ll get you something for your headache. I’ll be right back.” He disappears, probably heading for the bathroom, and Tsuna settles back against the pillows, fiddling with the headphones that have gone silent, whatever music Ignis had playing turned off for the moment. When the man reappears, Tsuna accepts the pills and swallows them down, drinking the water. He feels a little better afterwards.

 

“What happened?” he asks, after a moment to let everything settle. “Why am I here?”

 

Ignis sits back in his chair across the room, but moves closer when Tsuna makes a movement to get out of bed. “A stress response. An extreme one, but one that sometimes happens when PTSD is brought into play.”

 

“PTSD?” He feels like he’s heard those letters before.

 

“Post-traumatic stress disorder,” Ignis says, and like that a lightbulb goes off in Tsuna’s head.

 

“But I don’t have that. Only people who have gone to war or like, survived life-threatening situations get that, don’t they?”

 

Ignis shakes his head. “It can happen from anything,” he says softly. “Anything that causes a deep terror in a person - and I’m not speaking of jumpscares or horror movies. Something that makes everything in you flinch - that kind of terror, can cause it. Witnessing something traumatic can be enough to inflict it. I suspect whatever it was that set it off in you happened a fair while ago.”

 

“I--”

 

He tries to say  _ no, I haven’t had anything like that happen to me,  _ but something stills his tongue when he opens his mouth. The faintest trickle of memory, the recollection of nightmares he had when he was young - he recalls his mother telling him before  _ you used to scream when you were smaller, Tsuna-kun. Always about the fire.  _

 

“Fire,” he says. 

 

Ignis tilts his head. “You experienced a fire when you were younger?”

 

“No, I… I don’t…” He tries to recall something else. What was it about ‘fire’? “I don’t remember,” he says at last, a little sadly. “But Mom said I used to scream about it when I was younger. You might ask her.”

 

“Perhaps I will do that. In any case, the years of being hunted by your peers did enough damage on it’s own, and you had something not dissimilar to a PTSD flight response - you were there, but not.”

 

“Like a ghost?”

 

Ignis’ lips quirk. He makes a so-so gesture with his hands. “The body was there, but your eyes were empty.”

 

“Oh.” He’s seen that before, on TV - and once in a hospital. There had been an old man in the wheelchair by the door to his room. Tsuna had looked him in the eye, and something in him had jerked back.  _ A husk,  _ he recalls thinking.  _ There’s nobody home, anymore. _

 

Even now, the memory makes him shiver. 

 

“You brought me back?”

 

Ignis nods. “I brought you to the location I believed you would consider your safest place, and removed as many stresses as I could. No fear of interruption or lack of privacy, no fear of anyone outside interference. Just you and your world.”

 

“And you,” Tsuna says, before he can stop himself. “You’re important too.”

 

Something in the air shifts. Changes. And Tsuna is aware he’s standing on the edge of a cliff now, the words he wants to say lodged tight in his throat, but he needs to say them. Needs to tell Ignis the truth, after everything the man has done. 

 

“Am I?” Ignis asks softly. 

 

So Tsuna swallows hard, and finds every drop of courage he can in him. “You are,” he says. “Because I trust you.”

 

Silence. Silence and green eyes watching him, unblinking. Tsuna digs deeper.

 

“You’ve never hurt me, or lied to me. You aren’t like… them. You told me that first day that there were no hopeless cases, and you were right. I’m not hopeless. I don’t want to  _ be  _ hopeless, anymore. And I..”

 

Swallows. Digs the deepest he’s ever gone, and bares his soul. “And I’m tired of being treated like nothing. I don’t like it. I don’t want to be Dame Tsuna. I want to live life, and enjoy it, and not wake up every morning dreading it. I want--” Here he stills, because he doesn’t know how to put into words what he  _ wants.  _ What the fire in his breast is, yet. But he knows he wants.

 

“What do you want, Tsunayoshi?” Ignis asks, with the same quiet patience that’s followed him all this way. 

 

And in the end, like this, it’s simple.

 

“Everything,” Tsuna says. “I want to know everything, I want to experience everything, I want… I want a  _ life,  _ Ignis. I want to  _ be  _ someone, I...is, is that okay?”

 

And in what is the first, but will not be the last time, he looks to Ignis for guidance.

 

Ignis smiles, and nods, “That,” he says, “Is more than alright, Tsunayoshi.”

 

Tsuna breathes, and with his breath goes a weight he wasn’t aware he’s been holding onto, all this time. He’s been waiting for approval, he realizes, Ignis’ approval over this choice, this conscious decision to be selfish. To live for himself. 

 

“Would you prefer to do tutoring in here from now on, then?” Ignis asks him. 

 

Tsuna nods. “Yeah, I don’t… oh. I still have to go to school, don’t I?”

 

“Unfortunately yes.” Ignis pushes his glasses up. “However, I have it on good authority Dohachiro-san will no longer be a bother to you. So perhaps at last you can begin to enjoy at least a little of your middle school life.”

 

“Really?” Tsuna sits upright. “H-he got fired?”

 

Ignis smiles. “Indeed. There are others who take as dim a view of his actions as I did, apparently.”

 

Another weight falls away. Tsuna laughs, incredulous. “That’s… that’s amazing! I mean, I didn’t want it to be like this, but… he’s gone? For real?”

 

“For real, Tsunayoshi,” Ignis nods. “I would not say it if it were not true.”

 

Tsuna laughs again. Something in his chest erupts with that news, and suddenly he’s sobbing. He can’t stop it. He bows his head, hugging himself in the face of the news. “Oh thank god,” he cries. 

 

Ignis lays one hand on his back, and says nothing. But that’s fine. Just him being here in the room is comfort enough.

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

  
  


Here is what Ignis Scientia knows, but will never tell Tsunayoshi, but Tsuna will learn about ten years later anyhow. 

 

There is an assassin posing as a teacher, and that assassin is territorial over the child he has been sent to raise. And so when an ordinary man, angry and jealous, hurts that child, the assassin does what he was trained to do, and told to do - he protects his charge. 

 

There are six bags, common black grocery bags, tied with weights at the bottom of the sea now, each housing body parts of a man that is no longer alive. The smell of blood will not carry, and nobody will go looking for a man as unloved as Dohachiro. In a year’s time, the bags will have been eaten through by fish, the flesh rotten and dissolved on the ocean floor, nothing but bones remaining. Three years later, divers will find the bones, and the absence of Dohachiro Nezu will finally be documented. 

 

And six years after that, Sawada Tsunayoshi will be crowned as Vongola Decimo, and settle down to his first night in the new office with household news. He will read years of backlogs of Namimori papers, and learn about Dohachiro Nezu. He will remember one day, nine years back, when an assassin laid his hand over his spine and told him the truth - that Dohachiro Nezu would not bother him again.

 

He will remember, and he will know what Ignis never told him.

 

But for now, there is just Ignis, sitting here by the bedside of his charge, sobbing in glory of surviving his most hellish bully, a hand laid over his spine in a silent motion of solidarity.

  
_ The foundation has been laid,  _ he thinks.  _ Now, it’s time for the support columns. _


	5. Chapter 5

Going back to school the next day is both the hardest and easiest thing Tsuna has ever had to do in his life. Part of him still refuses to believe Nezu is really  _ gone  _ \- it has to be a trick, he thinks, because after all the pain and suffering the man has caused him, it almost seems too easy for him to be let go of simply because Ignis took a dim view of what was being done to him. 

 

But Ignis hasn’t lied to him yet. Tsuna isn’t sure if the man  _ is  _ capable of lying. And so rather than lead himself in a loop of ‘might or might not be’, he packs up his bag for the morning, ensuring the homework from last night is in the bag, and he has a spare copy in his hip pocket in case something happens to his bag - it wouldn’t be the first time - and heads to school.

 

It takes him no time to hear what he wants to know, not when almost everyone is talking about it.

 

“Dohachiro-san resigned last night, did you hear?”

 

“Aa. They’re saying he tried to assault a student, and Scientia-san stopped him.”

 

“Really? A man like that, assaulting a student?”

 

Tsuna’s heart thuds painfully in his chest as he walks the halls. He’s expecting to hear his named dragged into it, he realizes after a moment. He’s waiting for the inevitable drop, the moment when people turn to him and sneer, and assign blame, because Namimori Middle doesn’t get a lot of heavily qualified teachers, and Dohachiro Nezu had perfect grades from Tokyo U. The only one who outclasses him here is Ignis. And Ignis might be respected, but Tsuna isn’t. Ignis favoring him won’t be enough to stop people hating him for getting Dohachiro fired. 

 

But nobody so much as bats an eye his way as he puts his shoes in his locker and walks to class. He doesn’t hear his name ever mentioned - it’s merely  _ a student Dohachiro assaulted.  _

 

The second surprise of the day comes during Science period, when it isn’t Ignis who opens the door, but Ritsuko-sensei, who smiles brightly at them all and thanks them for behaving for the substitute so well in her absence. 

 

“I’ll be passing back tests today as well,” she says. Several students groan, Tsuna not included for once. This was one of the easier tests, and he’d remembered a lot of the material. Ignis had double-checked his answers on the practice test, and assured him he’d get passing marks, at the very least. He tries not to think on why Ignis isn’t here, and focus on that instead.

 

Except when his test comes back, it’s dripping in red ink. Tsuna stares at it, feeling an odd burning in his chest as Ritsuko-san shakes her head.

 

“Sawada-kun really, you must at least  _ try  _ to study sometime.”

 

_ No. But… no, Ignis said-- _

 

He wants to say something - to insist there must be a mistake. He knows--

 

_ Wait. Wait until you get home. Give it to Ignis. _

 

Instead, he nods, and takes the test, walking back to his desk. For once, there is no laughter, no mocking little sneers. He tucks the test into his other pocket, biting the inside of his lip at the pitying look Ritsuko-sensei gives him. A look he’s seen before, that says  _ poor child doesn’t know how stupid he actually is.  _

 

A look he never wants to see again. A look Ignis has never given him.

 

Suddenly, all his joy about Dohachiro being gone is up in smoke. There’s no point to being joyful about something like that, not when there’s always another one to take his place. And Ritsuko-sensei might not be the type to grab his wrist and accuse him of cheating, but that doesn’t mean she’s any kind of haven.

 

He listens to the lesson and takes notes, even if it no longer feels like he’s fighting a battle he might be able to win. The words swim in front of his eyes, his brain not connecting things like it’s been doing. Ritsuko-sensei doesn’t call on him, doesn't even acknowledge his existence. Probably figures he’s just doodling in his notebook to make it look like he’s doing something.

 

His stomach clenches hard at the thought, something like bile threatening to rise up in his throat. Today no longer feels survivable.

 

But Ignis is expecting his best, and so regardless of the world around him, he will make it through today.

 

**_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_ **

 

The day is long, and by the time school lets out, Tsuna has come close to tears no less than four times, bitten the inside of his lip raw, and retreated so deeply inside himself that when the bullies call out to him as he’s leaving the gates, he almost doesn’t hear them.

 

Almost, being the operative word.

 

But he does hear them. He keeps walking, the tears threatening to spill again in a rush of pure frustration - there’s something trembling in his chest, every unspoken word today he’s locked down threatening to break his rib cage and release themselves into the world. Maybe they’ll leave him alone if he just keeps walking. Maybe they’ll only hound him, and he can ignore it.

 

Maybe--

 

They don’t.

 

The footsteps rush on him suddenly, and when Tsuna turns, they’re bearing down on him like a group of predators on their next meal. And the thing in his chest rattles and shakes… and then quietly gives way to itself. Vicious, hot anger escapes him before he can stop it, along with a fear so profound he can barely breathe through it.

 

_ No more, no more, I don’t want them to touch me, just leave me alone _

 

_ Don’t do this, if you hit back you’re as bad as them, don’t do it, just let them-- _

 

But one reaches out, snags his wrist, and the beginnings of  _ Dame Tsuna  _ are already on his lips. They’re not going to be gentle, and they’re not going to care if he’s hurting. If he’s feeling like shit. They don’t care, because he’s just another  _ target,  _ not a person.

 

The words come out before Tsuna can stop them, in a screech that tastes like blood.

 

**_“DON’T TOUCH ME!”_ **

 

He grabs the hand on his wrist, throws it back, and then steps forward, puts his hands flat over both shoulders, and  _ pushes,  _ shoving him back. There’s a second - time seems so slow, suddenly - where the guy’s face does this weird twist, like he doesn’t understand what’s happening. And then he hits ground, and sits there for a second, still confused, before reality kicks in.

 

“You fuckin’ punk!”

 

The rage rises, simmers, burns. He’s out numbered, out matched, but he still--

 

_ They don’t get to look at me like that.  _

 

So when they come at him, he bites them. He scratches them. He lashes out and screams in a voice that feels far too ragged. He’s graceless, stumbling through a fight his body doesn’t want. But the anger keeps simmering, deadly hot inside his chest, and the fury of injustice that  _ even now,  _ they treat him like this, keeps him moving. Keeps the pain of the hits at bay. And eventually, Tsuna can’t tell how long its been, how much damage he’s done compared to them, they tuck tail and leave. Leaving Tsuna there, dripping blood on the ground, breathing through lungs that ache and burn. His stomach twists, unhappy, as he turns to lean against a nearby post. His head is dizzy, and his eyes want to close. He’s tired.

 

Instead, he wipes the blood off his chin as best he can - whether from the broken nose or when he bit his tongue, he can’t tell - and he stumbles home. There aren’t too many people out on the streets at this hour, but there are a few wives out in the yards - and they catch sight of him and stare or gasp, as if his wounds are anything  _ new. _

 

_ “Sawada-kun’s all bruised up again. He must have been fighting again.” _

 

_ “Ah, how scary. Nana’s boy is becoming a delinquent.” _

 

_ “Wonder if the yakuza have recruited him yet?” _

 

“Tsunayoshi.”

 

He stops. Looks up. The world is dizzy, swaying side to side, but in the setting sun he can still make Ignis out. There’s a light frown on his face, and a look in his eyes Tsuna can’t place. 

 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Got caught up.” He can feel something dripping from his nose, and swipes the back of his hand across it. Blood. He sniffles, and winces.

 

“Yes, it does appear so.” Ignis opens the gate, and it takes Tsuna a moment to realize he’s out of the jacket he usually wears, and in a long striped shirt and suspenders instead. “Come inside, and we’ll get you patched up.”

 

Nana is in the kitchen, humming a tune as she chops vegetables. Tsuna glances towards the doorway, wondering if he should say something, but Ignis’ hand presses along his shoulder, urging him upstairs. So it’s upstairs he goes, laying his backpack down behind his door, and sitting down on the edge of the bed. There’s more blood dripping from his nose, disturbed by his earlier movements. He presses the edge of his sleeve to it, hopes it won’t stain his uniform.

 

Ignis disappears into the bathroom for a moment, returning with a wet washcloth and a cup of water. 

 

“Tilt your head back for me, if you would please,” Ignis instructs, and Tsuna does. One of his hands comes to cup the back of Tsuna’s skull, holding him in place as he runs the cloth over his face. Probably a good idea, considering the way the world is still swaying a little. Now that the adrenaline is beginning to wear off, he’s feeling even more tired, more ready to lay down and pass out. Ignis won’t let him though.

 

“A split lip, and a broken nose. Not bad for your first fight.” He lays the cloth in the cup, the water inside now a murky red. “This will hurt, I’m afraid.” 

 

He doesn’t even give Tsuna an opportunity to prepare. A second later pain lances through his face again, and it’s only Ignis’ sudden tight grip on his head that keeps him in place. He wheezes, legs jerking up to knock against Ignis’ own, as he blinks stars out of his eyes. 

 

“There we are. Some ice, some rest, and in three weeks those bones should heal up nicely. Fortunately for you, it’s looking like a minor break at best.”

 

“So ‘m not dyin’?” Tsuna slurs, and flops sideways onto his bed. “S’good.”

 

“Indeed. Ah, but before you lay down, best to get you out of those clothes. We don’t need bloodstains on your bedding.”

 

“Mmgh, do I hafta?”

 

“Yes. Up with you.”

 

Normally, Tsuna would squawk about being able to get dressed himself, but right now he feels like he can barely stand. So when Ignis tugs him close, he leans on the man and lets him swap his uniform for nightclothes. It’s easy, trusting Ignis with this too.

 

“Get some rest. I’ll wake you when dinner comes.”

 

“S’okay,” Tsuna mumbles, curling back up into the bed. “I’ll stay here.”

 

“No you won’t,” Ignis orders.. “You’ll need your strength, and I know you don’t eat breakfast. I’ll wake you. Sleep.”

 

The command is overkill, given the way Tsuna’s already sinking into unconsciousness, but it’s nice all the same. 

 

_**0-0-0-0-0-0-0** _

 

“--yoshi. Tsunayoshi, come along now. It’s time to get up. Dinner’s on.”

 

There’s a familiar, warm voice in his ear, urging him up, and he’s draped in softness and comfortable. A hand at his back rubs circles along his spine, urging him up despite how nice it feels. “Come now,” Ignis says. “You’ve slept three hours. Up we get.”

 

Tsuna mumbles something into his pillow, but grudgingly raises his head. He hisses as his entire face seems to throb in tune with his heartbeat, and the light by his bedside turns on. He winces, preparing for the harsh flash of light, but the light is muffled beneath a lampshade that wasn’t there this morning. 

 

“Time is it?” he asks, yawning and regretting it a second later. 

 

“Just past seven. Dinner took a little longer to prepare than I originally intended. But it should still be perfectly warm by the time you get down there. Nana has already eaten and gone to bed.”

 

“Did you tell her?” He’s kind of surprised she let him sleep in.

 

“I informed her you had an unfortunate run in with some bullies on the street, and defended yourself. I patched you up and put you to bed. She’ll want to fuss over you in the morning, but seemed to take all else in stride.”

 

Tsuna staggers to his feet, yawning again. “I should… should soak my uniform. So the blood doesn’t stain.”

 

“No need. The stains have already been removed.” He lays a hand on Tsuna’s shoulder, gently guiding him downstairs. “I took the liberty while you were asleep. You seemed to need the rest more than anything else.”

 

“Oh. Thank you, then.”

 

“You’re welcome.”

 

The kitchen lights are almost entirely off, save the one over the range. Tsuna yawns a third time as he takes a seat, and Ignis slides a plate full of delicious-smelling food towards him, along with two little white pills at the edge of his plate. “Get something in your stomach before you take those. They’re heavy duty pain killers - they’ll let you sleep more comfortably tonight.”

 

“Thanks,” Tsuna says again, and digs in. After the first few bites, he’s more hungry than he is tired, and he starts to appreciate Ignis waking him for dinner. His stomach likely would have hurt in the morning otherwise.

 

Ignis pours himself a cup of coffee from the pot, leaning against the counter and watching Tsuna over the rim of his mug. “So,” he says after a few moments, “care to enlighten me on your choice of actions this afternoon?”

 

Tsuna slows in his chewing. It’s too easy to remember the anxiety of the day, the lack of Ignis, the despair over his world folding in on itself, the brief taste of freedom and confidence dashed against the rocks. 

 

He finishes his bite, lays down his chopsticks. Tucks his hands between his knees and says, “You weren’t there today.”

 

“No,” Ignis says. “Nor will I be again, most likely. The Principal and I had a disagreement over the matter of your education. So we’ve parted ways.”

 

Something sour rises in the back of Tsuna’s throat. “So. You’re… not coming back.”

 

“Most likely not.” He tilts his head. “Was that the issue?”

 

Tsuna takes in a deep breath. “Yes, and no. I...the test we’ve been practicing for came back today. I...She said…” Even now, the memory sinks its claws into him and threatens to rip him apart. “The questions were the  _ exact same  _ as the ones we practiced on, but...somehow I failed. She passed it back, and said  _ you should at least try to study.” _

 

Ignis says nothing. Tsuna feels his throat clench, his eyes burn, and ducks his head to get himself under control. “I just… today went downhill fast. And by the time I got out of there, I just wanted to be  _ home.  _ S-so they came after me, and I just…”

 

He gestures with his hand. Something that encapsulates  _ I snapped and bit and clawed them like a wild animal.  _ He knows Ignis will understand, even if he doesn’t say the words. 

 

“I know it wasn’t smart,” he concludes. “I’ll probably be in a lot of trouble tomorrow. Even without Nezu-sensei around, a lot of teachers are eager to see  _ Dame Tsuna  _ leave. All I did today was given them a reason. You heard the neighbors, after all. I’m a  _ delinquent  _ now.”

 

There’s a delicate cracking sound, like fine china under pressure. Ignis lays his mug in the sink, and folds his arms, looking down the bridge of his nose at Tsuna. 

 

“You,” he says, “Are the furthest thing from a delinquent, Tsunayoshi. You aren’t even in the beginning stages of that nonsense. And your choice to defend yourself today, be it emotionally or otherwise, is not something to be seen as a  _ problem.” _

 

“But they will. See it as a problem.” He knows, right down to his bones they will. That tomorrow he’ll be pulled into the office, and be told  _ you were fighting, you must not act so hastily, Sawada-kun.  _ He’ll be implied to be troublesome, and the rumors will start up again, and his mom will start getting harassed, and--

 

He doesn’t realize he’s wound himself up until Ignis’ hands clamp down on his shoulders, and the man’s voice is ordering him,  _ “Breathe!” _

 

He sucks in a lungful of air, and it still doesn’t like enough. But Ignis doesn’t let the panic sit, doesn’t let it get claws in him. “Again,” he orders, green eyes fierce, and Tsuna does. He’s shaking, he realizes, and bows his head.  _ Can’t even do this much,  _ he thinks of himself.

 

“Tsunayoshi, stop thinking. Breathe.”

 

He breathes on command. It still doesn’t feel like enough. His body feels like it wants to rip itself apart, like there can be no other option than self-destruction. Tsuna hates it. But he breathes until the nerves inside him stop rippling with fear, until his brain stops trying to convince him the world is going to fall down around his ears, and he has no choice but to accept it. He breathes until the world becomes him and Ignis in the tiny little kitchen, and all he has to do is obey and exist, and it is enough.

 

In the end, he’s got his face pressed into Ignis’ neck as the man holds him firm, and the world finally stops feeling quite so indomitable. He breathes, and lets himself forget anything that is not this for the moment.

 

“Alright,” Ignis says after a moment. “Let us try this again. Smaller steps this time. Your hands, if you would.”

 

Shakily, Tsuna offers them out. Ignis curls them around his own, and says, “I am going to ask you a yes-or-no question. Squeeze for yes. Do not squeeze for no. Understand?”

 

He squeezes.

 

“Very good. Do you feel comfortable going to school now?”

 

No squeeze.

 

“Do you feel comfortable going outside any longer without being harassed?”

 

No squeeze.

 

Ignis takes in a slow breath. “If I were to teach you self defense,” he says, “Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

 

Tsuna hesitates. He wants to say yes, but… he’s not entirely sure self-defense will be enough. If that’s what he needs to finally stop the fear from plaguing him. 

 

“I don’t know,” he croaks. “But I just… I need them to stop looking at me like I’m  _ worthless.  _ They’re not even giving me a chance anymore, and I just--”

 

“Tsunayoshi.”

 

Tsuna looks up at Ignis. The man’s eyes are flinty and hard, and there is a resolve in them that makes him envious. “We can remove you from the school, if it’s too much. There is no shame in it. I told you before, I will merely come to teach you. It would be incredibly easy to prove myself an adequate teacher for homeschooling. I can teach you all you desire to know, and you would never need to set foot in those halls again.”

 

“But,” Tsuna whispers. “Doesn’t that make me a coward? For running away?”

 

“No. It makes you a survivor, and a realist who understands that if people wish to change, they would have done so already. What is there in that school for you that can’t be found elsewhere? What is there that makes everything you have faced, every bit of suffering you have been made to endure at the hands of others worth it?”

 

Tsuna opens his mouth, prepares to say  _ you’re there,  _ only to recall what Ignis had told him earlier. He wasn’t going back to Namimori. Slowly, his mouth closes, and his eyes drop. That alone is answer enough for Ignis.

 

“With your permission, tomorrow we will go down and withdraw you.”

 

On some level, Tsuna expects himself to want to object. Wants to think his old instincts of appeasing the bullies will kick in, and he’ll go back tomorrow. But that desire doesn’t come, and after a moment of silence, a moment of Ignis patiently waiting for an answer, Tsuna gives him one.

 

“Yeah. Okay.”

 

Ignis nods slowly, and then nudges him back towards his seat. “Finish your food. We’ll speak no more on this until tomorrow. You’ve been through enough for one day.”

 

Tsuna considers arguing about  _ that  _ \- he’s been busted up a bit, but that’s happened before, and he’s on the mend now, so it isn’t like it’s a huge deal - but there’s a look in Ignis’ eye that warns him perhaps that’s not a terrible smart idea. 

 

So instead, he asks, “Are you staying the night?”

 

“Your mother did offer me the guest bed. I suppose given the hour, it would only be polite.” Ignis reaches for another mug, pours himself the last cup out of the coffee pot, and begins to wash the pot out. “Leave the dish in the sink to soak. They’ll hold until tomorrow.”

 

Tsuna mumbles an agreement, and eats as much as he can before doing as Ignis requested. He’s yawning again as he goes back upstairs, the pills reducing the pain around his face to something more tolerable, like a bad bruise rather than broken bone. He’s still careful as he lays down, and double checks to ensure his alarm is set for the morning. 

 

The thought of never having to go back to Namimori again is daunting, but terribly pleasant at the same time. He turns the light off, and counts his breaths in his head as he watches moonlight stream in through his curtains. 

 

At some point, he nods off. His dreams, if he has any, are peaceful enough not to wake up until his alarm rings out in the morning, stirring him. 

 

He finds Ignis downstairs with his mother, the two talking quietly as Ignis stands by the stove and cooks breakfast. He glances up as Tsuna walks in, and nods towards the chair he sat in last night, where a glass of water and two pills are already waiting. “Breakfast will be but a moment.”

 

“Okay.” The quiet of the kitchen begins to eat at him after a few moments, and he stares out the window to keep himself distracted.

 

“Tsuna,” his mother’s voice draws his attention back. She’s frowning a little as she looks at him, but there’s a shade of worry there too that has him sitting up. “Ignis-san told me what happened, but I need to hear it from you. Is this truly what you want?”

 

“Being homeschooled?”

 

She nods, and reaches out to touch the back of his hand with one of her own. “I know it’s hard, but what about your friends?”

 

He stares at her for a long time. “Mom,” he says at last, and maybe it was his discussion with Ignis that rattled it loose, or maybe his patience is just all used up, but he doesn’t stop himself speaking the truth now. “I don’t have friends. I’ve never had friends my entire time I’ve been there. There’s  _ nobody.” _

 

She blinks. “What about Kyoko-chan?”

 

“What about her?” Kyoko had been a crush. A faint one, but a crush all the same. But it hadn’t taken him long to learn that someone like him couldn’t just ask Kyoko out on a date, not with his reputation the way it was. And nobody would ever see past “Dame-Tsuna” to actually know him. His crush had died fast, and hard, and last he heard she’d been seen going out with Mochida-senpai. 

 

Nana stares at him now, unsure, like she’s been expecting a different response. In the resulting silence, Tsuna pulls his hand away.

 

“It’s better this way, Mom,” he mumbles. “I’ll be a lot happier if I never have to go back there again. There’s nothing keeping me there, so why bother?”

 

Her shoulders slump. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

Several answers immediately come to mind. His eyes flicker towards Ignis out of habit, and meets the man’s eyes.  _ A little help? _

 

“Breakfast is on.” A plate slides towards him, filled with food before he has to answer. “Eat. We’ll need to be quick to get through the worst of things to come. I dare say they’ll want to try to drag this out as long as they can.”

 

_ And pin the blame on me in the process.  _ He spears one of the nicely-cooked carrots on top of the rice and shoves it into his mouth as his mother looks towards him again, opening her mouth in preparation for another round of questions. Or perhaps to ask her first again.

 

The thing is, there’s no easy way to tell her  _ I didn’t tell you because I was emotionally broken and I’ve only started feeling something other than hatred towards myself and my life because of that tall skinny man standing by our stove.  _ There’s no way to encompass all Ignis has done for him - is still doing for him - without making it sound creepy or like Ignis is grooming him for something.

 

They both know he isn’t. Tsuna can’t explain it, but he knows Ignis doesn’t have those kinds of designs on him. But others might not see it as such - Dohachiro certainly made that clear that day in the bathroom. An older man suddenly offering a young boy comfort and security when they’re still technically strangers in many forms throws up all sorts of red flags. Tsuna doesn’t want to get Ignis in trouble, and he doesn’t need his mom thinking it’s some kind of bad-touch stockholm syndrome he’s been put under.

 

He doesn’t want to make his mother feel like a failure for not hearing or seeing what’s been going on with him at all hours. He knows he’s been difficult compared to other kids his age. But he also doesn’t want to throw Ignis under the bus, or reveal what all has been going on recently.

 

So he just says, “It’s better this way, Mom,” and gobbles down his food as fast as he can without choking himself. If the way Ignis’ lip curls is any indication, he’ll be getting scolded for his manners later.

 

Nana throws a desperate, pleading look towards Ignis, as if  _ he  _ knows what to say to make her feel like less of a failure as a mother. 

 

The man hums, leaning against the stove, reaching over for a mug of coffee. “I’ve found that where Tsunayoshi is concerned, sometimes actions speak far louder than words. Many of the children at his school, and several of the teachers, have been speaking quite clearly even when their words differ. Things like that are difficult to convey in a believable manner when you’re young, however.”

 

_ Or to put it simply, nobody’s going to believe a kid that comes up and says their entire school has been mistreating them for being themselves,  _ Tsuna thinks, chewing especially hard at the egg. It really is a delicious breakfast - he wishes they weren’t discussing this while he was trying to enjoy it, but they don’t have many options.

 

Nana still looks crestfallen. She accepts a plate from Ignis without a word however, and Ignis makes his own last. They eat like that, a mother, child, and the man that has become an odd mixture of protector and mentor in the last few days. There’s a strange sort of harmony to it, one Tsuna finds himself appreciating as he goes to clean his plate and dry it.

 

By the time he’s done, his mother is on her feet again. She comes over and embraces him. “Please,” she says into his ear, kissing his temple. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret later, Tsunayoshi. Even if it seems like a good idea now, I don’t want you to burn bridges that will put your future in jeopardy. You understand, right?”

 

He does. She’s worrying about him as only a mother can do - and even hurting like he is, it’s still nice to see. “I’ll be okay, Mom. Ignis already told me what to expect, and how things are going to go. I’m still going to graduate, and have a degree and stuff! It’s just… gonna be in a smaller classroom. Much smaller. And since I’ll be home most of the time now, I can help you out with the house and stuff! It’ll be good. You can show me all the best places to shop for certain stuff, and we can spend more time together.”

 

Nana sniffles. Her eyes are suspiciously wet. “It does sound nice,” she agrees with a wobbly smile. She kisses his forehead, and turns towards Ignis. She bows.

 

“Please Ignis. Take care of my son.”

 

Tsuna’s cheeks burn, and he opens his mouth to say something, but Ignis is already smoothly bowing back.

 

“Of course, Nana. Your son’s future is secured. I guarantee it.”

 

Tsuna doesn’t think he’s lying. But for the first time since they’ve met, there’s a feeling to the words. A weight to them that he hasn’t noticed before. He cocks his head, and frowns.

 

_ Not telling the truth, but not lying either. It’s something else.  _ The thought rises to his mind, unbidden. He doesn’t know what it means, but somehow he knows it’s correct.

 

Ignis isn’t lying, but he isn’t telling the whole truth, either. 

 

He straightens from his bow, and looks at Tsuna. “Well then, best get dressed. I took the liberty of picking you out an outfit for the meeting. We’ll want to be at our best for this, so bear the discomfort for a bit. Afterwards, you’re free to change into whatever you want.”

 

“Okay.” He can deal with it for this - besides, maybe a change of clothes will make him feel more confident about this whole matter. “Be right back, then. Oh, and breakfast was delicious. Thank you very much.”

 

“Of course. I do enjoy cooking from time to time. It was kind of your mother to let me borrow her stove for a bit.”

 

“Oh, no trouble really. I was hardly in the mood to cook this morning.”

 

He leaves them to talk, and hurries upstairs. The outfit Ignis mentioned is hanging in his closet when he opens it, and it takes him a second of staring before he finally reaches for it.

 

The clothing is  _ brand new.  _

 

Dress pants in dark blue, a long-sleeve button up in oyster white, and a beautiful dark blue jacket to cover it. The material is soft and stretch, and when he pulls the shirt on, fits comfortably. He was right about one thing - the outfit  _ does  _ make him feel better. There’s an almost delicate power to it, and the feeling of that power wraps itself around Tsuna, lending him a bit of steel to his spine as he brushes his hair and looks at himself in the mirror. 

 

He looks  _ regal.  _ Like a completely different person.

 

“Wow.”

 

“Ready?”

 

He squeaks and jumps, never having heard Ignis ascend the stairs. “Ah, j-just about? I just need to put my shoes on.”

 

“In the box in the corner of your closet. It would have been remiss of me to get you a suit without shoes to match.” He looks Tsuna over, and smiles softly. “The colors were a good pick, if I do say so myself. Is it comfortable?”

 

“Yeah, actually. First suit I’ve worn that is. Comfortable, I mean.”

 

“That’s good, considering the measurements I gave the tailor were blind shots in the dark. And I do apologize if this is overstepping my boundaries.”

 

“You’re not,” Tsuna says. “Really. I-- You’ve been a big help in all this.” He tugs the shoes on - they’re practically mimics of Ignis’, done in the same oyster white as his shirt. “How the heck am I going to keep the dirt off these before we get there?”

 

“We’ll be taking the car, that’s how. The shoes were also a guess, I’m afraid.”

 

They’re a little roomier than he expects, but he can walk in them without too much issue. “It’ll be alright, I think. Maybe I’ll grow into them.”

 

Ignis hums. “Perhaps. If you’ve your father’s stature, I’ve no doubt.”

 

Tsuna’s head jerks up. “You know my dad?”

 

“Somewhat. He and I have crossed paths a few times when I was in Italy.”

 

“That’s where he is?”

 

“He didn’t tell you?”

 

“No. M-mom said… he went off to become a star. So I assumed--”

 

“Ah. I see. No, your father is very much alive, very well, and very grumpy from his many long shifts, last I saw of him.”

 

“Oh.” Shoes tied, he stands again. “Do I look okay?”

 

“More than fine. Ready now?”

 

“Not really,” Tsuna admits. “But the sooner we get it over with, the less stressful it’ll be, right?”

 

“And the faster we can begin re-teaching you the proper way of things.”

 

“Even better. One method, and only one.”

 

“Indeed. Come along, then.”

 

Nana is nowhere to be seen when they return downstairs, and so Ignis is allowed to grab the keys, and a manilla folder that seems full of documents. He lets Tsuna out first, but Tsuna stops cold as soon as he sets foot on the vehicle waiting for them.

 

“There’s no way… that’s not yours, right?”

 

Tsuna doesn’t know vehicles that well, but he knows the small, sleek looking car sitting beside the curb is powerful. 

 

“She is indeed mine. And you can relax - she’s a very old classic, remodeled into something newer to fit in with the times. That’s all.”

 

He doesn’t believe that for a second. “What is it?”

 

“A Mazzanti, they call it. I don’t drive her around very often, which is why she’s in such a condition. But for something like this, we want to make an impression. Well, go ahead and get in. I’ll be but a moment.”

 

The passenger door is unlocked, and Tsuna gingerly slides in, careful not to touch anything. He feels like if he does, he’ll soil something for sure. Granted, Ignis said it was an older model, but still…

 

“You needn’t be afraid. You won’t break anything.” Ignis climbs into the car, and somehow his appearance becomes that much more lethal up against the dark cherry insides. “Seatbelt on, please. We won’t be going far, but I won’t have you endangered.”

 

Once Tsuna slides the seatbelt into place, Ignis turns the car on. It starts with a low, rumbling purr that sends shivers down Tsuna’s spine. Ignis affectionately pats the wheel, puts the car into gear, and off they go. 


End file.
